Nothing could have been more distasteful to Georgiana than such sentiments. To hear the words "admiration" and "devotion" uttered by Mr. Bertram was not only an outrage upon the present hour, occupied as it was with the gravest solicitude for the life of a friend, but also upon the past, when similar words had been spoken to her by William Price. From no one else could she bear to hear them; coming from his cousin, she could almost have called them an insult. Of course, he could not know that, but it almost seemed like trading upon having placed them under an obligation to him, that he should presume to speak in a manner so repugnant to her. Too vexed to choose her words, when Mr. Bertram stopped for breath, having brought his peroration to a close by an offer in correct form of his hand and heart, she replied coldly that she was much honoured by his proposals, but it was entirely out of her power to accept them. Bertram had not expected a favourable reply on the instant, but he had hardly expected so decisive an unfavorable one. He stepped forward with outstretched hands, and an eager, "But, Miss Darcy--" to which her only response was to move haughtily away, and at that moment, to the relief of the lady and the chagrin of the gentleman, Elizabeth entered the room. Only the good manners habitual to both could have helped them to carry off the situation. Tom Bertram, checked in one of his flights of eloquence, descended to earth again with an observation on the weather, and for the next few minutes the temperature and the prospects of rain were debated with great earnestness.