“Certainly,” returned he, “had you invited me.”
“Then from this day I give you a general invitation; nor shall any other company be admitted but those whom you approve.”
“I am very much obliged to you,” said he.
“And you,” continued she, “who have been accustomed only to church-music, will be more than any one, enchanted with hearing the softer music of love.”
“What ravishing pleasures you are preparing for me!” returned he—“I know not whether my weak senses will be able to support them!”
She had her eyes upon him when he spoke this, and she discovered in his, that were fixed upon her, a sensibility unexpected—a kind of fascination which enticed her to look on, while her eyelids fell involuntarily before its mighty force, and a thousand blushes crowded over her face. He was struck with these sudden signals; hastily recalled his former countenance, and stopped the conversation.
Miss Woodley, who had been a silent observer for some time, now thought a word or two from her would be acceptable rather than troublesome.
“And pray, my Lord,” said she, “when do you go to France?”
“To Italy you mean;—I shall not go at all,” said he. “My superiors are very indulgent, for they dispense with all my duties. I ought, and I meant, to have gone abroad; but as a variety of concerns require my presence in England, every necessary ceremony has taken place here.”
“Then your Lordship is no longer in orders?” said Miss Woodley.