"
Turlington internally cursed his own irritable temper.
"I beg your pardon--both of you," he said. "I didn't know what I was
saying. Make some allowance for me. All my hopes in life are centered in
Natalie; and you have just told me (in her own words, Miss Lavinia) that
she doesn't love. You don't mean any harm, I dare say; but you cut me to
the heart."
This confession, and the look that accompanied it, touched the ready
sympathies of the two old people in the right place. The remainder of
the story dropped between them by common consent. They vied with each
other in saying the comforting words which would allay their dear
Richard's anxiety. How little he knew of young girls. How could he be
so foolish, poor fellow! as to attach any serious importance to what
Natalie had said? As if a young creature in her teens knew the state of
her own heart! Protestations and entreaties were matters of course, in
such cases. Tears even might be confidently expected from a right-minded
girl. It had all ended exactly as Richard would have wished it to end.
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