( 442 )
Harleigh was instantly at her feet; grieved at her distress, yet charmed with a thousand nameless, but potent sensations, that whispered to every pulse of his frame, that a sensibility so powerful could spring only from too sudden a concussion of pleasure with surprise.
He had hardly time to breathe forth a protestation, when the sight of his posture brought back the blood to her cheeks, and force to her limbs; hastily rising, and, with looks of blushing confusion, yet with a sigh that spoke internal anguish, "I cannot attempt," she cried, "Mr. Harleigh, — I could not, indeed, attempt — to express my sense of your generous good opinion! — yet — if you would not destine me to till eternal misery, you must fly me — till you can forget this scene — as you would me to fly perdition!"
She rose to be gone but Harleigh stopt her, crying, in a tone of amazement, "Is it possible, — can it be possible, that with intellects such as
