“I feel that I must do that, too.”
“Then,” said Clara with a slight frown, “what congeniality of taste and pursuits is there between us?”
“Why, my loved one,” said Ernest with a smile, “fortunately theatres and dances occupy but a small portion of our time.”
“Who will escort me when I want to go?”
Ernest loved his affianced with such an intensity that he dreaded to get into an unpleasant controversy that might culminate fatally to his hopes. If he were too puritanical and inflexible, he thought, she might sever all the ties between them—an event which made him shudder to contemplate; so he replied:
“All congeniality of taste between us need not be destroyed because you may fancy some amusements which I do not. It could scarcely be expected that two human beings should think exactly alike. With regard to your dancing, I leave it to your conscience and to time which usually destroys our relish for most of the sports and enjoyments of youth. I have strong hopes that you will sooner or later perceive the necessity of leaving the paths of moral ruin and renouncing the pleasures of sin for the more solid and substantial pleasures of religion.”
Clara said nothing, but sat still gazing into the forest which spread out in the distance—gazing with that vacant air which indicates the absence of attention to any object upon which her eyes might be fixed. Ernest could form no idea as to the character of her thoughts from the expression of her fair countenance, and he began to fear that he had said too much, and thought that perhaps he would better endeavor to remove every difficulty that might prove an obstacle to their union. He did not want to leave any grounds for one of those unfortunate misunderstandings between lovers which so frequently grow out of nothing. He therefore said with an air of cheerfulness and tenderness:
“You need not suppose, my loved one, that I will be forever preaching to you. That is not my calling. Have I given you offence by anything I have said? I mean by all I have said only that there is a time for all things—a time to dance and a time to give religion a prominent place in our thoughts.”
“O, no; I’m not offended, but you make me feel gloomy. It is bad enough to hear these things about death at church, where we expect it. I didn’t know that we had to make religion a topic of private conversation.”