And then his sore self-love found some balm in the
girl's self-reproach, which he saw plainly enough, without understanding
it in the least. It was like him to consider the effect which the
breaking of the engagement might have on his political prospects, and to
postpone it on the bare chance of its affecting them adversely. But it
was still more like him merely to postpone it with an immovable
determination in his mind, utterly unaffected by all the girl's winning
gentleness and open regret. And it was most of all like him never for an
instant to allow any thought of Philip Alston's fortune to make him
waver. All the gold in the world could have done nothing to make William
Pressley forget, or forgive, the wound which his self-love had received.
She continued for a while in her shy, gentle efforts to win him back to
something like the old friendliness, which had existed between them
before they had become engaged to be married. It was this which she
longed to have restored, with her craving for affection and her dread of
hard feeling. But despairing at last, she arose with a sigh and went to
the hearth, and began talking to the two old ladies, who left off
quarrelling when she came, as they nearly always did.
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