Let me again express to you my acknowledgments for
an honour which I feel is great; but permit me to regret that for your
offer of your hand and fortune these acknowledgments are all I can
return.'
'Miss Dacre! am I then to wake to the misery of being rejected?'
'A little week ago, Duke of St. James, we were strangers. It would be
hard if it were in the power of either of us now to deliver the other to
misery.'
'You are offended, then, at the presumption which, on so slight an
acquaintance, has aspired to your hand. It is indeed a high possession.
I thought only of you, not of myself. Your perfections require no time
for recognition. Perhaps my imperfections require time for indulgence.
Let me then hope!'
'You have misconceived my meaning, and I regret that a foolish phrase
should occasion you the trouble of fresh solicitude, and me the pain of
renewed refusal. In a word, it is not in my power to accept your hand.'
He rose from the table, and stifled the groan which struggled in his
throat. He paced up and down the room with an agitated step and a
convulsed brow, which marked the contest of his passions.
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