University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—ROOM IN SIR GEORGE HALLERTON'S COUNTRY HOUSE, AS IN ACT SECOND.
The Scene discovers Thornton and Florence.
FLORENCE.

You estimate him liberally, as friend should friend.

THORNTON.

I protest, madam, did I seek in bearing, for perfect
carriage; in thought, for nicest instinct; in disposition,
for generosity and discretion in their equipoise—
I should deem my need satisfied in his discovery.

FLORENCE.

So fair a report includes all virtues—benevolence,
honour, truth, constancy.

THORNTON.

They abound in Temple.

FLORENCE.

Oh, I do not doubt it.

THORNTON.

You make me happy. But that open volume warns
me to retire.

FLORENCE.

You! you were welcome!

THORNTON.

I intended to be so. (Aside.)
Still absorbed in the
same enchanting production! You are rightly proud
of your kinsman.

FLORENCE.

Indeed his work merits your commendation.

THORNTON.

Commendation, madam,—transport! I was of the
happy few who heard your cousin's language translated
into music.

FLORENCE.

Music! The tale is written in prose.

THORNTON.

But prose becomes music when you read it. Did I
not undertake to interest my Lord St. Aubyn for the
author?

FLORENCE.

You were so generous.

THORNTON.

Further—to impress his Lordship's taste—I proposed
to furnish him with an evidence of young Ashbrooke's
accomplishments. You promised to transcribe for me
that exquisite letter which Clarinda addresses to Sir
Harry.

FLORENCE.

When after so much unkindness she at last suspects
his constancy?

THORNTON.

The same.

FLORENCE.

It is already copied.

THORNTON.

It commences?—

FLORENCE
(reading the copy).

I ask my reason whether I may still trust you, and it
answers—no; but when I question my heart, it bids me
trust you for ever. I have given you my all, but believe
—. Have I quoted rightly? (Gives him the letter.)

THORNTON.

The Muse has dictated to one of the Graces. She
read the words as if she felt them. (Aside, complacently.)

But I go to town this morning. You designed to
honour me with a commission.

Enter, behind, Osborne, Lady Parabout, and Miss Parabout. (Florence takes off the ring and presents it to Thornton.)
FLORENCE.

I did. A stone is lost from my ring—a valued remembrance
from Miss Hallerton. Will you bid the
jeweller supply the defect?

OSBORNE.

Love tokens! a ring! She gives him what he will
never give her. (Aside.)

THORNTON.

Appointed to your service, I kiss hands on my promotion.
(Kneels, and kisses her hand.)

OSBORNE.

At her feet. (Aside.)

LADY PARABOUT
(as if shocked, to Osborne.)

I fear, Sir, we intrude.

[Lady Parabout, Miss Parabout, and Osborne go out unobserved.]
FLORENCE
(smiling).

I could trust your gallantry, though less ceremony
enforced it. When do you go?

THORNTON.

Within two hours. In the meantime, the sun woos us
to recreation. I will but ascertain the plans of our
hostess, and return to escort her loveliest guest.

[He bows and goes out.
FLORENCE.

How unjust, often, is first impulse. This gentleman,
so rich in all qualities of goodness, I had censured as
hollow and dissolute. I must atone to him for my
former slights. How he glowed in admiration of
Vivian! My hope is re-assured.—Re-assured! Did I
need another's witness to his truth? Yes; I was poor
enough to doubt; to suspect the smiles that custom
enforced; to wrest torture even from a courtesy. This
very morning I had resolved to put my foolish distress

into words. Thank Heaven, they have not been spoken.
These tears are sweet, though they condemn me. But
I must banish their traces. I will seek him at once.
There is no doubt in my heart; he shall find none in
my look.

[She goes out.
Re-enter Thornton.
THORNTON.

Gone! Why did I slight opportunity? There is
something in this girl which restrains while it invites.
Nay she attracts the more by suggesting that she can
also repel. I must have a care or I shall be ill-bred
enough to love her! However my means prosper.
Affecting to admire Temple, I insensibly endear myself.
And, what is most to the point, he cools to her hourly.
Eh!

Enter Osborne.
OSBORNE.

Well, how goes it? Is the charmer still disdainful?
What a battery has the enchanting Laura opened upon
Temple? No wonder he gives ground. The town
lady's coquetry carries it against the country girl's
simplicity.

THORNTON.

They are opposites; but perhaps his taste is wide
enough to embrace both.

OSBORNE.

No; love, like the sun, shines but on one hemisphere
at a time; and the noonday of one woman is necessarily
the midnight of her antipodes. But the lady's
coldness is too strongly fortified?

THORNTON.

Why, for every frown of last week she deigns me
now a lip full of smiles. What of that?

OSBORNE.

Nothing, I vow.

THORNTON.

Gives me sentences of sweet discourse where before
she denied syllables. What of that?

OSBORNE.

Still, nothing. Yet he knelt to her unreproved. With
what ostentation he parades her pledge. (Aside.)
—
Still nothing; nor will I credit her surrender on less
warrant than her own confession.

THORNTON.

Ha, humph! Let's change the theme. Thou hast
lost thy wager. To-morrow sees me in town. On
Wednesday, Lady Cynthia meets me in the Park.

OSBORNE.

Impossible!

THORNTON.

Will you believe her summons?

(He produces several letters, and presents in mistake the one given by Florence.)
OSBORNE
(reading).

I ask my reason whether I may still trust you and it
answers no; but when I question my heart it bids me—

THORNTON.

Hold! Pardon me—

OSBORNE.

Trust you for ever.

THORNTON.

Stay! Hear me—what have I done

OSBORNE.

But 'tis not Lady Cynthia's character.

THORNTON.

Return it, Sir.

OSBORNE.

Why, 'tis the hand whose free grace was so admired
last night—Florence Delmar's.

THORNTON.

Return it, I say; 'tis an error.

OSBORNE.

Oh, the perjury of a fair face! (Returning the letter.)

THORNTON.

Eh! What do you mean?

OSBORNE.

Does this modesty become you?

THORNTON.

But hear me.

OSBORNE.

Why dissemble? Do I not know thee?

THORNTON.

He takes it for an avowal of her passion, and will
not be undeceived. Well; I can bear the imputation.
'Twill be rumoured that she affects me. (Aside.)

Come! This is folly. I'll escape ere thou concoct
more mischief. The letter proves nothing.

OSBORNE.

Oh, nothing! But you go not alone.

[They go out.