"You will not be offended, sir, if I say that I feel it to be a great pity that one who has such eloquence at his command should spend his time merely repeating the phrases--the very inferior phrases--of others. The Senate, sir, should be your stage. You are not angry, sir?"
She had laid a hand upon his arm and was looking pleadingly up to his face.
"Angry?" cried Mr. Bates, patting her hand, at which she turned her eyes, modestly from his face to the ground.
"Angry? Nay, dear lady, you have but expressed what I have often thought."
"I am so glad that you are not offended by my presumption, sir," said Kitty, removing her hand--Mr. Bates did not seem willing to let it go. "If you were offended, I protest that I should be the most wretched of women."
Mr. Bates marked how her voice broke, He took a step after her, as she went to the settle.
"Dear madam, you deserve to be the happiest rather than the most wretched of your sex," he said--his voice was also very soft and low.
Kitty turned to him, crying quickly: "And I should be so if--" here she sighed--it seemed to Mr. Bates quite involuntarily. "Pardon me: I--I--that is--sometimes the heart forces the lips to speak when they should remain silent. A woman is a simple creature, sir."
"A woman is a very fascinating creature, I vow," cried Mr. Bates, and he felt that he was speaking the truth.
"Ah, Mr. Bates, she has a heart: that is woman's weakness--her heart!" murmured Kitty.
"I protest that she has not a monopoly of that organ," said Mr. Bates. "May not a man have a heart also, sweet one?"
"Alas!" sighed Kitty, "it has not been my lot to meet with any but those who are heartless. I have often longed--but why should I burden you with the story of my longings--of my sufferings?"
"Your woman's instinct tells you that you have at last met with a man who has a heart. I have a heart, dear creature. Was it my fate brought me into this room to-day? Was it my inscrutable destiny that led me to meet the most charming--"
"Pray, Mr. Bates, be merciful as you are strong!" cried Kitty, pressing one hand to her tumultuous bosom. "Do not compel a poor weak woman to betray her weakness: the conqueror should be merciful. What a voice is yours, sir! What poor woman could resist its melody? Oh, sir, forgive the tears of a weak, unhappy creature."