Well, madam, said my cousin, with an air of curiosity—Pray, your ladyship—
I could not speak for very impatience—
I never heard in my life, said the countess, such a fine character of any mortal, as he gave you. He told me of his engagements to go abroad as the very next day. He highly extolled the lady for whose sake, principally, he was obliged to go abroad; and he spoke as highly of a brother of hers, whom he loved as if he were his own brother; and mentioned very affectionately the young lady's whole family.
'God only knows,' said he, 'what may be my destiny!—As generosity, as justice, or rather as Providence, leads, I will follow.'
After he had generously opened his heart, proceeded the countess, I asked him, If he had any hope, should the foreign lady recover her health, of her being his?
'I can promise myself nothing,' said he. 'I go over without one selfish hope. If the lady recover her health, and her brother can be amended in his, by the assistance I shall carry over with me, I shall have joy inexpressible. To Providence I leave the rest. The result cannot be in my own power.'
Then, sir, proceeded the countess, you cannot in honour be under any engagements to Miss Byron?
I arose from my seat. Whither, my dear?—I have done, if I oppress you. I moved my chair behind hers, but so close to hers, that I leaned on the back of it, my face hid, and my eyes running over. She stood up. Sit down again, madam, said I, and proceed—Pray proceed. You have excited my curiosity. Only let me sit here, unheeded, behind you.
Pray, madam, said Mrs. Reeves, (burning also with curiosity, as she has since owned,) go on; and indulge my cousin in her present seat. What answer did Sir Charles return?
My dear love, said the countess, (sitting down, as I had requested,) let me first be answered one question. I would not do mischief.