“Now you are mine, Teresa,” he continued, still holding her hand. “Soon to be Viscountess Cour-land, hereafter Countess of Richborough. But you are silent. Speak, I conjure you! Tell me you are content!”
“Can you doubt it?” she replied, with a look that seemed to penetrate the inmost recesses of his breast.
“And you really, truly love me?”
“Really, truly!” she rejoined. “I never loved till now!”
“May I credit this?” he remarked, somewhat incredulously. “I am willing to be deceived.”
“I repeat, you are the only person I have ever really loved.”
Another kiss followed the gratifying assurance, which might possibly have been correct.
“Are you ambitious, Teresa?” asked the enamoured young nobleman.
“I do not think so,” she rejoined. “I am influenced by your agreeable qualities, not by your rank. Though a recommendation, your title would not have gained you my hand.”
“But I ought to tell you I am not very rich, and I shall not have much during my father's lifetime.”