Part 38 (2/2)

_Lucy._ It is possible, but barely possible, who but a foolish mother, blinded by partiality, would ever have been guilty of an act which never could benefit herself?

_Capt. Eth._ You are not well acquainted with the knavery of the world.

To prove a fact like this, in a court of justice, would, in most instances, be rewarded liberally. Your brother, for instance, seems to view the affair in a very different light.

_Lucy._ Captain Etheridge, I can honestly a.s.sert, that the rumour has occasioned to me the greatest uneasiness; and were it to prove true, I should be still more unhappy.

_Capt. Eth._ I cannot understand you. You would find yourself raised to a position in society which you did not expect; courted by those who at present disregard you, and moving in a circle to which, I must say, your beauty and your other natural gifts would contribute to adorn.

_Lucy._ Do not flatter me. I have a great dislike to it. I am, I trust, satisfied in my present situation; and, were I weak enough to indulge a transient feeling of vanity, the reminiscence which would instantly intrude, that my advancement was founded on the misery of those I love better than myself, would render it a source of deep and unceasing regret.

_Capt. Eth._ Those you love better than yourself, Lucy; who are they?

_Lucy_ (_confused_). I referred to your sister Agnes, and to your father.

_Capt. Eth._ O, not to me!--then I am an _exclusion_.

_Lucy._ My grat.i.tude to your father for his kindness, and our intimacy from childhood, ought to a.s.sure you, Captain Etheridge, that----I must ever wish for your happiness.

_Capt. Eth._ But suppose, my dear Lucy, this should prove to be true.

_Lucy._ I have already stated my sentiments.

_Capt. Eth._ You have, Lucy, generally, and much to your honour; but I am just putting the case for my amus.e.m.e.nt. Suppose it were proved true, you would not look down upon me as the child of your inferiors?

_Lucy._ Captain Etheridge, the very observation, for your amus.e.m.e.nt, is both ungenerous and unkind. I acknowledge our present inferiority, but not perhaps to the extent which would be exacted from your family. But oblige me by not carrying your suppositions any further.

(_Tremulously._) I am not very happy--as it is.

_Capt. Eth._ Forgive me, Lucy, I did not intend to inflict pain. I am much too fond of you for that.

_Lucy._ Then why do you come here to make me miserable?

_Capt. Eth._ To make you miserable, my dear Lucy? I should, indeed, be a wretch, when my own happiness depends upon you. (_Lucy starts._) (_Aside._) It is out at last. Now there's no retreat in honour, and I thank heaven for it. (_Aloud._) Did you hear me, Lucy? (_Lucy appears fainting, Etheridge supports her._) Are you angry with me, Lucy? (_She weeps._) I will confess to you honestly, that I have long struggled with my pa.s.sion, but pride, ridiculous pride, has severely punished me for listening to its selfish dictates. Believe me, when I a.s.sert, that never was man more attached than I am to you. Answer me, Lucy, am I then indifferent to you?

_Lucy._ (_separating herself gently from Captain Etheridge_). I will be as candid as you have been. (_Remains for a little time silent._) Whether you are indifferent to me or not, I must leave you to judge, from the effects of your communication; but I have also pride, and that pride never will allow me to enter a family against the wishes of those who have a right to be consulted on a question of such serious importance.

_Capt. Eth._ Only one question, Lucy. If my father consents to our union, will you be satisfied, without the concurrence of my mother?

_Lucy._ I should abide by the decision of my own father and mother; but, to confess the truth, I should not be satisfied.

_Capt. Eth._ Am I then to consider this as a mere act of duty, Lucy? Is there no feeling towards me?

_Lucy._ O yes! Why should I deny it? Indeed, Edward, if you could have read my heart for some time back, you would have found----

_Capt. Eth._ What, my dear Lucy?

_Lucy._ That your image has long occupied it--to its unhappiness.

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