“You will, at this rate, become quite a dangerous member of society,” rejoined Julia, with another effort to laugh.
“What a novice I must have been but a few days since,” continued Frances, “to have been so taken in as I was by that business between Edmund and Lady Susan. Why, he no more loves her (nor ever did,) than I do that stick, Sir Philip!—That she loves him, indeed, I have no doubt.”
Julia’s heart beat so fast, that she made several attempts before she could articulate the following words: “Then why did he wish her ladyship to marry him?”
“That is what puzzles me,” replied Frances, “I think there must have been something strange in the business; Lady Susan did say a good deal about his being so modest in consequence of his want of rank, that she feared she had been obliged to meet him more than half way.”
“But why meet her any part of the way, if he did not wish it?” said Julia.
“He might, you know, have been dazzled by the great advantages of such a marriage,” replied Frances. “Or been induced by her ladyship’s evident preference to mistake his own feelings. But, however that may have been, of two things I am now certain: the one, that he does not love Lady Susan; the other, that he does love you.” She paused, but Julia made no reply. “Yes, Julia,” Frances continued, “I am convinced that he loves you in the most extravagant, the most passionate, the most enthusiastic manner! Oh, it is so plain to be seen in every thing!”
Julia was still silent; but she pressed her sister’s hand, involuntarily, as if thanking her for the joyful emotions her words were exciting. “In short,” continued Frances, “he loves you with my love and the Marquis’s put together, if you can imagine what sort of a love that would make. And I am sure he is breaking his heart because he knows papa will never consent to your marrying him. I wish,” she added, “he did love Lady Susan—don’t you, Julia?” Julia made no immediate reply. “I say, Julia,” repeated Frances, “don’t you wish it was Lady Susan that Edmund loved?”
“Why no—don’t you think it would be very unamiable of him to love a stranger better than those he has always loved, ever since they were children?”
“Unamiable?—Oh, I don’t know,” said Frances; “but I am sure that loving you will make him very unhappy!”