“I believe he loves you,” replied Miss Woodley, “and yet there is a doubt if——”
“There shall be no longer a doubt,” cried Miss Milner, “I’ll put him to the proof.”
“For shame, my dear! you talk inconsiderately—what can you mean by proof?”
“I mean I will do something that no prudent man ought to forgive; and yet, with all his vast share of prudence, he shall forgive it, and make a sacrifice of just resentment to partial affection.”
“But if you should be disappointed, and he should not make the sacrifice?” said Miss Woodley.
“Then I have only lost a man who had no regard for me.”
“He may have a great regard for you, notwithstanding.”
“But for the love I have felt, and do still feel, for my Lord Elmwood, I will have something more than a great regard in return.”
“You have his love, I am sure.”
“But is it such as mine? I could love him if he had a thousand faults. And yet,” said she, recollecting herself, “and yet, I believe his being faultless, was the first cause of my passion.”