“Mr. Philip, you are hard and unreasonable. I have tried to persuade her, and I have made my darling cry. Nothing you can say will induce me to distress her again. Go back, you very undetermined man—go back to your Helena.”
“Too late.”
“Nonsense!”
“I say too late. If I could have married Helena when I first went to stay in the house, I might have faced the sacrifice. As it is, I can’t endure her; and (I tell you this in confidence) she has herself to thank for what has happened.”
“Is that really true?”
“Quite true.”
“Tell me what she did.
“Oh, don’t talk of her! Persuade Eunice to see me. I shall come back again, and again, and again till you bring her to me.”
“Please don’t talk nonsense. If she changes her mind, I will bring her with pleasure. If she still shrinks from it, I regard Euneece’s feelings as sacred. Take my advice; don’t press her. Leave her time to think of you, and to pity you—and that true heart may be yours again, if you are worthy of it.”
“Worthy of it? What do you mean?”