Nay, you said you thought them very fine! Oh! Yes!--True!--Very
fine!--All about love--I recollect.
Well, and having so much faith in love, you do not think them the worse
for that.
Oh, by no means!--But I thought you had.
Love in a song may be pardonable.
Especially, madam, if the song be written by Mr. Henley.
Clifton!--You almost teach me to despair!--You do not know me!--Perhaps
however I am more to blame than you, at present. Timidity has given me
some appearance of conscious guilt, which my heart disavows. But, as
there is scarcely any error more dangerous to felicity than suspicion,
I own I am sorry to see you so frequently its slave. Never think of
that woman for a wife, in whom you cannot confide. And ask yourself
whether I ought to marry a man who cannot discover that I merit his
confidence?
I find, indeed, implicit faith to be as necessary in love as in
religion--But you know your power, madam.
An indifferent spectator would rather say you know yours.
You will not go, madam, and leave me thus?