Colonel Lennox was too noble-minded himself to suppose for an instant
that Mary actually felt dislike towards him because at the commencement
of their acquaintance he had not done justice to her merits; but he was
also aware that, until he had explained to her the nature of his
sentiments, she must naturally regard his attentions with suspicion, and
consider them rather as acts of duty towards his mother than as the
spontaneous expression of his own attachment. He therefore, in the most
simple and candid manner, laid open to her the secret of his heart, and
in all the eloquence of real passion, poured forth those feelings of
love and admiration with which she had unconsciously inspired him.
For a moment Mary's distrust was overcome by the ardour of his
address, and the open manly manner in which he had avowed the rise and
progress of his attachment; and she yielded herself up to the delightful
conviction of loving and being beloved.
But soon that gave way to the mortifying reflection that rushed over her
mind, "He _has_ tried to love me!" thought she; "but it is in obedience
to his mother's wish, and he thinks he has succeeded. No, no; I cannot
be the dupe of his delusion--I will not give myself to one who has been
solicited to love me!" And again wounded delicacy and woman's pride
resumed their empire over her, and she rejected the idea of _ever_
receiving Colonel Lennox as a lover.
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