"I fear, my dearest girl," said he, "that something disagreeable has
happened between you and the Count Sobieski. Perhaps he has offended
you? perhaps he has found my sweet Mary too amiable?"
Alarmed at this supposition, after a short struggle she answered, "O
no, sir! It is I who have offended him. He thinks I pride myself on
the insignificant services I rendered to him in London."
This reply convinced the baronet that he had not been pre-mature in
his judgment, and, with a new-born delight springing in his soul, he
inquired why she thought so? Had she given him any reason to believe
so?
Mary trembled at saying more.--Dreading that every word she might
utter would betray how highly she prized the count's esteem, she
faltered, hesitated, stopped. Sir Robert put the question a second
time, in different terms.
"My loved Mary," said he, seating her by him on the trunk of a fallen
tree, "I am sincerely anxious that you and this young nobleman should
regard each other as friends. He is very dear to me; and you cannot
doubt, my sweet girl, my affection for yourself. Tell me, therefore,
the cause of this little misunderstanding."
Miss Beaufort took courage at this speech. Drying her glowing eyes,
though still concealing them with a handkerchief, she replied in a
firmer voice, "I believe, sir, the fault lies totally on my side. The
Count Sobieski met me on the terrace, and thanked me for what I had
done for him.
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