Miss B. Yes, papa.
Sir Philip. How does Mr. Handy dance?
Miss B. Oh! he did not dance till—
Sir Philip. You danced with your lover?
Miss B. Yes—no papa!—Somebody said (I don't know who) that I ought to dance with Henry, because—
Sir Philip. Still Henry! Oh! some rustic boy. My dear child, you talk as if you loved this Henry.
Miss B. Oh! no, papa—and I am certain he don't love me.
Sir Philip. Indeed!
Miss B. Yes, papa; for, when he touched my hand, he trembled as if I terrified him; and instead of looking at me as you do, who I am sure love me, when our eyes met, he withdrew his and cast them on the ground.
Sir Philip. And these are the reasons, which make you conclude he does not love you?