Charlotte M. Yonge,
Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
“ I love and honour him more than any one I ever met—except my dear father.” “Come, Aura, you are talking by rote out of the marriage service. You may be open with me, you know, it will go no further; and I do long to know whether you can be truly content at heart,” said Harriet with real affection. “Dear sister,” said Aurelia, touched, “believe me that indeed I am. Mr. Belamour is kindness itself. He is all he ever promised to be to me, and sometimes more.” “Yet if he loved you, he could never let you live moped up there. Are you never frighted at the dark chamber? I should die of it!” ”
