MATTERS MAKE SLOW PROGRESS.
263
"Forgive her? Naughty Robert! Was she in the wrong, or were you?"
"Must I at length love her downright, Cary?"
Caroline looked keenly up, and made a movement towards him, something between the loving and the petulant.
"Only give the word, and I'll try to obey you."
"Indeed, you must not love her; the bare idea is perverse."
"But then she is handsome, peculiarly handsome: hers is a beauty that grows on you: you think her but graceful, when you first see her; you discover her to be beautiful, when you have known her for a year."
"It is not you who are to say these things. Now, Robert, be good."
"Oh! Cary, I have no love to give. Were the goddess of beauty to woo me, I could not meet her advances: there is no heart which I can call mine in this breast."
"So much the better: you are a great deal safer without: good-night."
"Why must you always go, Lina, at the very instant when I most want you to stay?"
"Because you most wish to retain when you are most certain to lose."
"Listen; one other word. Take care of your own heart: do you hear me?"
"There is no danger."
"I am not convinced of that: the Platonic parson, for instance."
"Who? Malone?"