“I never heard that it was a man’s supreme merit to love,” said Caroline; “but we are not at present inquiring what is a man’s but what is a woman’s characteristic excellence. And I have heard it said to be a woman’s supreme merit, and grace, and dignity, that her love should _not unsought be won_.” “That is true,” said Rosamond, “perfectly true--in general; but surely you will allow that there may be cases in which it would be difficult to adhere to the letter as well as to the spirit of this excellent rule. Have you never felt--can’t you imagine this?” “I can well imagine it,” said Caroline; “fortunately, I have never felt it. If I had not early perceived that Colonel Hungerford was not thinking of me, I might have deceived myself with false hopes: believe me, I never was insensible to his merit.” “But where is the merit or the glory, if there was no struggle, no difficulty?” said Rosamond, in a melancholy tone. “Glory there is none,” said Caroline; “nor do I claim any merit: but is not it something to prevent struggle and difficulty? Is it nothing to preserve my own happiness?” “Something, to be sure,” said Rosamond. “But, on the other hand, you know there is the old proverb, ‘Nothing hazard, nothing have.’” “That is a masculine, not a feminine proverb,” said Caroline. “All I meant to say was, that there is no rule without an exception, as all your philosophers, even the most rigid, allow; and if an exception be ever permitted, surely in such a case as this it might, in favour of such a man as Colonel Hungerford.” “Dangerous exceptions!” said Caroline. “Every body is too apt to make an exception in such cases in their own favour: that, you know, is the common error of the weak. Oh! my dear sister, instead of weakening, strengthen my mind--instead of trying to raise my enthusiasm, or reproaching me for want of sensibility, tell me that you approve of my exerting all my power over myself to do that which I think right. Consider what evil I should bring upon myself, if I became attached to a man who is not attached to me; if you saw me sinking, an object of pity and contempt, the victim, the slave of an unhappy passion.” “Oh! my dear, dear Caroline, that could never be--God forbid; oh! God forbid!” cried Rosamond, with a look of terror: but recovering herself, she added, “This is a vain fear. With your strength of mind, you could never be reduced to such a condition.” “Who can answer for their strength of mind in the second trial, if it fail in the first?” said Caroline. “If a woman once lets her affections go out of her power, how can she afterwards answer for her own happiness?”