"Well, Harry," said his companion, "what do you think of the last
scene?"
"You allude to Cavanagh's handsome young son, and the very pretty girl
that fainted, poor thing!"
"Of course I do," replied Hycy.
"Why," said the other, "I think the whole thing was very simple, and
consequently very natural. The young fellow, who is desperately in
love--there is no doubt of that--thought she had died; and upon my soul,
Hycy, there is a freshness and a purity in the strongest raptures of
such a passion, that neither you nor I can dream of. I think, however,
I can understand, or guess at rather, the fulness of heart and the
tenderness by which he was actuated."
"What do you think of Miss Cavanagh?" asked Hycy, with more of interest
than he had probably ever felt in her before.
"What do I think?" said the other, looking at him with a good deal of
surprise. "What can I think? What could any man, that has either taste
or common-sense think? Faith, Hycy, to be plain with you, I think her
one of the finest girls, if not the very finest, I ever saw. Heavens!
what would not that girl be if she had received the advantages of a
polished and comprehensive education?"
"She is very much of a lady as it is," added Hycy, "and has great
natural dignity and unstudied grace, although I must say that she has
left me under no reason to feel any particular obligations to her.
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