Most joyfully would Montague have sacrificed every luxury, undergone every privation, to secure the possession of Laura; but he would not sacrifice his mother's health nor his sister's independence to any selfish gratification; nor would he subject the woman of his choice to the endless embarrassments of a revenue too small for its purposes.
These reasons had determined him against addressing Laura. At their first interview he had been struck with her as the most lovely woman he had ever beheld; but he was in no fear that his affections should be entangled. They had escaped from a hundred lovely women, who had done their utmost to ensnare them, while she was evidently void of any such design. Besides, Montreville was his old friend, and it was quite necessary that he should visit him. Laura's manners had charmed De Courcy as much as her person. Still might not a man be pleased and entertained, without being in love? Further acquaintance gradually laid open to him the great and amiable qualities of her mind, and was it not natural and proper to love virtue? but this was not being in love.
Symptoms at last grew so strong upon poor De Courcy, that he could no longer disguise them from himself; but it was pleasing to love excellence. He would never reveal his passion. It should be the secret joy of his heart; and why cast away a treasure which he might enjoy without injury to any? Laura's love indeed he could not seek; but her friendship he might cherish; and who would exchange the friendship of such a woman for the silly fondness of a thousand vulgar minds?
In this pursuit he had all the success that he could desire; for Laura treated him with undisguised regard; and with that regard he assured himself that he should be satisfied. At last this 'secret joy,' this 'treasure of his heart' began to mingle pain with its pleasures; and, when called away on his mournful errand to Mr Wentworth, De Courcy confessed, that it was wise to wean himself a little from one whose presence was becoming necessary to his happiness, and to put some restraint upon a passion, which from his toy was become his master. Short absence, however, had only increased his malady; and Laura in sorrow, Laura grateful, confiding, at times almost tender, seized at once upon every avenue to the heart of De Courcy: he revered her as the best, he admired her as the loveliest, he loved her as the most amiable of human beings. Still he resolved that, whatever it might cost him, he would refrain from all attempt to gain her love; and he began to draw nice distinctions between the _very tender_ friendship with which he hoped to inspire her, and the tormenting passion which he must silently endure. Happily for the success of De Courcy's self-deceit, there was no rival at hand, with whose progress in Laura's regard he could measure his own, and he never thought of asking himself what would be his sensations if her _very tender_ friendship for him should not exclude love for another.