He then took the liberty of walking up to the fire himself, and asking me if I were aware that Mr.Huntingdon was now at the seat of Lord Lowborough, and likely to continue there some time.
'No; but it's no matter,' I answered carelessly; and if my cheek glowed like fire, it was rather at the question than the information it conveyed.
'You don't object to it ?' he said.
'Not at all, if Lord Lowborough likes his company.' 'You have no love left for him, then ?' 'Not the least.' 'I knew that--I knew you were too high-minded and pure in your own nature to continue to regard one so utterly false and polluted with any feelings but those of indignation and scornful abhorrence!' 'Is he not your friend ?' said I, turning my eyes from the fire to his face, with perhaps a slight touch of those feelings he assigned to another.
'He was,' replied he, with the same calm gravity as before; 'but do not wrong me by supposing that I could continue my friendship and esteem to a man who could so infamously, so impiously forsake and injure one so transcendently--well, I won't speak of it.

But tell me, do you never think of revenge ?' 'Revenge! No--what good would that do ?--it would make him no better, and me no happier.' 'I don't know how to talk to you, Mrs.Huntingdon,' said he, smiling; 'you are only half a woman--your nature must be half human, half angelic.
Such goodness overawes me; I don't know what to make of it.' 'Then, sir, I fear you must be very much worse than you should be, if I, a mere ordinary mortal, am, by your own confession, so vastly your superior; and since there exists so little sympathy between us, I think we had better each look out for some more congenial companion.' And forthwith moving to the window, I began to look out for my little son and his gay young friend.
'No, I am the ordinary mortal, I maintain,' replied Mr.Hargrave.

'I will not allow myself to be worse than my fellows; but you, Madam--I equally maintain there is nobody like you.

But are you happy ?' he asked in a serious tone.
'As happy as some others, I suppose.' 'Are you as happy as you desire to be ?' 'No one is so blest as that comes to on this side eternity.' 'One thing I know,' returned he, with a deep sad sigh; 'you are immeasurably happier than I am.' 'I am very sorry for you, then,' I could not help replying.
'Are you, indeed?
No, for if you were you would be glad to relieve me.' 'And so I should if I could do so without injuring myself or any other.' 'And can you suppose that I should wish you to injure yourself?
No: on the contrary, it is your own happiness I long for more than mine.

You are miserable now, Mrs.Huntingdon,' continued he, looking me boldly in the face.