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"You were in earnest when you wrote them?" "I was very young, very enthusiastic, very silly." "You were and are my image of constancy!" "It is an error, Sir Willoughby; I am far from being the same." "We are all older, I trust wiser. I am, I will own; much wiser. Wise at last! I offer you my hand." She did not reply. "I offer you my hand and name, Laetitia." No response.
When Master Crossjay tumbled down the stairs, Laetitia was in Clara's room, speculating on the various mishaps which might have befallen that battered youngster; and Clara listened anxiously after Laetitia had run out, until she heard Sir Willoughby's voice; which in some way satisfied her that the boy was not in the house.
Clara to be as direct as possible, even to baldness, and you know I loathe it I could not, I repeat, I could not marry Laetitia Dale! Let me impress it on you. No flatteries we are all susceptible more or less no conceivable condition could bring it about; no amount of admiration. She and I are excellent friends; we cannot be more.
She put her lips in a pouting form to simulate saying: "Press it." "He is to come," said Laetitia. "Then write him his permit." There was a chatter about Crossjay and the sentinel true to his post that he could be, during which Laetitia distressfully scribbled a line for Dr. Corney to deliver to him. Clara stood near.
She will be cured by-and-by of that coveting of everything that I do, feel, think, dream, imagine . . . ta-ta-ta-ta ad infinitum. Laetitia was invited here to show her the example of a fixed character solid as any concrete substance you would choose to build on, and not a whit the less feminine." "Ta-ta-ta-ta ad infinitum.
You'd think a man like that couldn't help but be above such things as Cousin Laetitia and Aunt Belle made of him. "Occleve." The very name that he owned had a nice sound; and he was brilliantly clever and looked brilliantly clever.
I am so ignorant that I feel I should know more of the lives of those very people! Miss Laetitia interrupted: 'Ignorant! Of course you are ignorant. That is what you ought to be. Isn't it what we have all been devoting ourselves to effect ever since you were born? Read your third chapter of Genesis and remember what came of eating of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.
Nor could the temptings of prudent counsel in his head induce him to run the risk of such a total turnover as the incurring of Laetitia's pity of himself by confiding in her. He checked that impulse also, and more sovereignly. For him to be pitied by Laetitia seemed an upsetting of the scheme of Providence.
He went on talking in the church porch, and murmuring softly some steps up the aisle, passing the pews of Mrs. Mountstuart Jenkinson and Lady Busshe. Of course he was entertaining, but what a strangeness it was to Laetitia! His face would have been half under an antique bonnet. It came very close to hers, and the scrutiny he bent on her was most solicitous.
Clara would fain have stayed to drink tea with her in her own room, but a last act of conformity was demanded of the liberated young lady. She promised to run up the moment breakfast was over. Not unnaturally, therefore, Laetitia supposed it to be she to whom she gave admission, half an hour later, with a glad cry of, "Come in, dear." The knock had sounded like Clara's. Sir Willoughby entered.
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