'Tis the best proof of my sincerity.

But come, now, I would lay a wager you are no coward ?' 'Indeed, sir, I am not more afraid than another,' said Nance.

'None of my blood are given to fear.' 'And you are honest ?' he returned.
'I will answer for that,' said she.
'Well, then, to be brave, to be honest, to be kind, and to be contented, since you say you are so--is not that to fill up a great part of virtue ?' 'I fear you are but a flatterer,' said Nance, but she did not say it clearly, for what with bewilderment and satisfaction, her heart was quite oppressed.
There could be no harm, certainly, in these grave compliments; but yet they charmed and frightened her, and to find favour, for reasons however obscure, in the eyes of this elegant, serious, and most unfortunate young gentleman, was a giddy elevation, was almost an apotheosis, for a country maid.
But she was to be no more exercised; for Mr.Archer, disclaiming any thought of flattery, turned off to other subjects, and held her all through the wood in conversation, addressing her with an air of perfect sincerity, and listening to her answers with every mark of interest.

Had open flattery continued, Nance would have soon found refuge in good sense; but the more subtle lure she could not suspect, much less avoid.
It was the first time she had ever taken part in a conversation illuminated by any ideas.

All was then true that she had heard and dreamed of gentlemen; they were a race apart, like deities knowing good and evil.