Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Self-control -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction
While Mrs Douglas was assisting Laura to pack up her little wardrobe,
she attempted to break her guarded silence on the subject of Hargrave,
by saying, 'I doubt this same journey of your's will prevent Colonel
Hargrave from trying the effects of perseverance, which I used to think
the most infallible resort in love, as well as in more serious
undertakings.' Laura began a most diligent search for something upon the
carpet. 'Poor Hargrave,' Mrs Douglas resumed, 'he is a great favourite
of mine. I wish he had been more successful.' Laura continued
industriously cramming a bandbox. 'All these gowns and petticoats will
crush your new bonnet to pieces, my dear.' Laura suddenly desisted from
her employment, rose, and turning full towards Mrs Douglas, said--'It is
unkind, it is cruel, thus to urge me, when you know that duty more than
inclination keeps me silent.' 'Pardon me, my dear Laura,' said Mrs
Douglas, 'I have no wish to persecute you; but you know I was ignorant
that Colonel Hargrave was our interdicted subject.'
She then entered on another topic; and Laura, vexed at the partial
disclosure she had inadvertently made, uneasy at being the object of
constant scrutiny, and hurt at being obliged to thwart the habitual
openness of her temper, felt less sorry than relieved as she sprung into
the carriage that was to convey her to Glenalbert. So true is it, that
concealment is the bane of friendship.
Other interests, too, quickened her desire to return home. She longed,
with a feeling which could not be called hope, though it far exceeded
curiosity, to know whether Hargrave had called or written during her
absence; and the moment the chaise stopped, she flew to the table where
the letters were deposited to wait their return. There were none for
her. She interrupted Nanny's expression of joy at the sight of her
mistress, by asking who had called while they were from home. 'Nobody
but Miss Willis.' Laura's eyes filled with tears of bitterness. 'I am
easily relinquished,' thought she--'but it is better that it should be
so;' and she dashed away the drops as they rose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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