“My Lord, if you doubt my gratitude——”
“Give me a proof of it, Harry, and I will doubt no longer.”
“Upon every other subject but this, my Lord, Heaven is my witness your happiness——”
Lord Elmwood interrupted him. “I understand you—upon every other subject, but the only one, my content requires, you are ready to obey me. I thank you.”
“My Lord, do not torture me with this suspicion; it is so contrary to my deserts, that I cannot bear it.”
“Suspicion of your ingratitude!—you judge too favourably of my opinion—it amounts to certainty.”
“Then to convince you, Sir, I am not ungrateful, tell me who the Lady is you have chosen for me, and here I give you my word, I will sacrifice all my future prospects of happiness—all, for which I would wish to live—and become her husband as soon as you shall appoint.”
This was spoken with a tone so expressive of despair, that Lord Elmwood replied,
“And while you obey me, you take care to let me know, it will cost you your future peace. This is, I suppose, to enhance the merit of the obligation—but I shall not accept your acquiescence on these terms.”
“Then in dispensing with it, I hope for your pardon.”