Georgiana was not much enlightened, and her shyness and natural reserve made her hesitate to ask questions on such a subject, which, had she been Kitty, she could not have mentioned to any living creature. But Kitty was evidently longing for sympathy, and poured out her hopes and fears and her reasons for both, mingling with them a description of William Price, painted in the most vivid colours and emphasizing his courage and distinction as an officer, his amiability as a man, his perfection as a ball-room partner, and the high opinion Mr. Knightley and all sensible men had formed of him. Georgiana listened, and was interested almost against her will; she had known Kitty to take fancies several times before for persons who had not returned her regard or thought of doing so; but in this case, from what she could gather, the young man seemed really to deserve Kitty's enthusiasm; they had met under Mrs. Knightley's auspices, he had been very often at the house, and certainly, everything considered, it was much more likely that he should fall in love with Kitty than not. Nevertheless, she hardly knew how to answer her; to encourage her in hopes which might prove false would be the cruellest kindness, so, while, murmuring her wishes for her friend's happiness, she agreed that she must wait for the evening of the ball before she could really tell how far Kitty's dreams were likely to be realized. They talked so long that eventually she had to propose a return to the drawing-room, fearing to be guilty of discourtesy towards Mrs. Knightley; but she was glad that only a moment was left for Kitty's hurried inquiry about her own affairs, as they hastened down the staircase, and that she could therefore dismiss the subject with a light word. Kitty was scarcely satisfied, but finding that Georgiana could not be induced to speak of Colonel Fitzwilliam, returned to her own all-absorbing topic with the remark, "I do wish you could meet someone just like my dear Mr. Price!" Chapter IX