"
"Never mind about dress," answers Mr. Hayward. "I won't dress either."
He has no designs on his guest, but he is a good-natured gentleman, and
he sees that these two are attracted toward each other.
Miss Susan is at church. If her brother will dine at his usual hour on
Sunday, she cannot help it, but she will not countenance him by her
presence.
Philip Vansittart thinks he has never spent such a divinely happy
evening as this. Virginia sings to him; her voice thrills to his very
soul. Mr. Hamilton is asleep in the next room. As for Virginia, when she
is alone, she first smiles a happy, triumphant smile, because she knows
he loves her, and then she bursts into a passion of tears and sobs until
her whole frame is convulsed. If his mind is really set against
marriage, what will become of her! She feels as though life without him
must be one long night of despair.
Philip Vansittart paces his room until the small hours, thinking of this
charming, lovable creature, who inspires stronger, deeper sensations in
him than he has ever felt before. He tells himself, without vanity or
self-deception, that what he feels for her, with that difference which
governs the loves of men and women, she feels for him--heart has gone
out to heart, nay, they are twain halves of a perfect heart. It is but
for him to stretch out his hand to her, and she will come.
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