“It chanced one day, when I was listening only as one listens to a man who is talking at another through oneself, I did not immediately catch the meaning, or I believe hear what the general said. Cecilia, unawares, answered for me, and showed that she perfectly understood:--he bowed--she blushed. “Man is usually quicksighted to woman’s blushes. But our general was not vain, only proud; the blush he did not set down to his own account, but very much to hers. It was a proof, he thought, of so much simplicity of heart, so unspoiled by the world, so unlike--in short, so like the very woman he had painted in his fancy, before he knew too much----. Lady Cecilia was now a perfect angel. Not one word of all this did he say, but it was understood quite as well as if it had been spoken: his lips were firm compressed, and the whole outer man composed--frigidly cold;--yet through all this Cecilia saw--such is woman’s penetration in certain cases--Cecilia saw what must sooner or later happen. He, still proud of his prudence, refrained from word, look, or sigh, resolved to be impassive till his judgment should be perfectly satisfied. At last this judgment was perfectly satisfied; that is, he was passionately in love--fairly ‘caught,’ my dear, ‘in the strong toils of grace,’ and he threw himself at Cecilia’s feet. She was not quite so much surprised as he expected, but more pleased than he had ventured to hope. There was that, however, in his proud humility, which told Cecilia there must be no trifling. ‘He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who fears to put it to the touch, To win or lose it all.’ “He put it to the test, and won it all. General Clarendon, indeed, is a man likely to win and keep the love of woman, for this, among other good reasons, that love and honour being with him inseparable, the idol he adores must keep herself at the height to which he has raised her, or cease to receive his adoration. She must be no common vulgar idol for every passing worshipper.” As Lady Davenant paused, Helen looked up, hesitated, and said: “I hope that General Clarendon is not disposed to jealousy.” “No: he’s too proud to be jealous,” replied Lady Davenant. Are proud men never jealous? thought Helen.