She was afraid that she had betrayed
the deep, passionate regard with which she had long looked upon
him. She was lost in delight at her own happiness. She was silent
for a time. At length she said--
"I don't think you know how faithful I have been to you ever
since the days when you first brought me pistachio-candy from
London--when I was quite a little girl."
"Not more faithful than I have been to you," for in truth, the
recollection of his love for Ruth had utterly faded away, and he
thought himself a model of constancy; "and you have tried me
pretty well. What a vixen you have been!" Jemima sighed; smitten
with the consciousness of how little she had deserved her present
happiness; humble with the recollection of the evil thoughts that
had raged in her heart during the time (which she remembered
well, though he may have forgotten it) when Ruth had had the
affection which her jealous rival coveted.
"I may speak to your father; may not I, Jemima?"
No! for some reason or fancy which she could not define, and
could not be persuaded out of, she wished to keep their mutual
understanding a secret. She had a natural desire to avoid the
congratulations she expected from her family. She dreaded her
father's consideration of the whole affair as a satisfactory
disposal of his daughter to a worthy man, who, being his partner,
would not require any abstraction of capital from the concern,
and Richard's more noisy delight at his sister's having "hooked"
so good a match.
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