I cannot tell how much she has learnt to
value them, how necessary they have become to her. Lady Latimer, who was
good to me until the other day, is shutting her doors against me now as
too contemptible."
"Not at all. The despotic old lady shuts her doors against you because
she is afraid of you."
"What have I to urge except that I love her?"
"The best of pleas. Don't fear too much. Give her leave to love you by
avowing your love--that is what a girl waits for: if you let her go back
to Woldshire without an understanding between yourselves, she will think
you care for your own pride more than for her."
"I wish she were little Bessie at Beechhurst again, and all her finery
blown to the winds. I have not seen her for five days."
"That must be your own fault. You don't want an ambassador? If you do,
there's the post."
Harry was silent again. He was chiefly raising objections for the
pleasure of hearing them contradicted; of course he was not aware of
half the objections that might have been cited against him as an
aspirant to the hand of Miss Fairfax. In the depth of his heart there
was a tenacious conviction that Bessie Fairfax loved him best in the
world--with a love that had grown with her growth and strengthened with
her strength, and would maintain itself independent of his failure or
success in life. But oh, that word _failure_! It touched him with a
dreadful chill. He turned pale at it, and resolutely averted his mind
from the idea.
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