Suddenly she threw her arms around her sister, and embraced her tenderly.
"You dear, dear girl," she whispered--"Oh, I am so--so happy! But tell me--tell me--all, from the beginning. Lionel!--is it possible?"
"You thought we were very busy talking together to-night, at Mrs. White's ball, didn't you?--You were a little jealous, were you not, you silly thing? Ah, my Ella! My proud--proud Ella! To have made such a tumble into love!"
"Nonsense!--how you talk! But tell me all he said. Every single word of it!"
"He said he loved you more than his life, and all that sort of thing; and that I must tell you so to-night; and, if you would give him the least atom of encouragement, I was to take no notice, and he would speak to papa and mamma immediately; but, if you hated him as much as I said I was sure you did...."
"I thought that was what I ought to say."
"Well, in _that_ case, I was to write. Shall I write?"
And from this time the existence of Ella was changed.
She loved, with all the fervor and energy of her nature; and life took at once a new color. True love is of the infinite. None can have deeply loved--when or how in other respects it may have been--but they have entered into the unseen world; have breathed a new breath of life; have tasted of the true existence.
What is often called love, may do nothing of all this--but I am speaking of _true_ love.
Lionel seemed at that time scarcely worthy of the passion he had inspired. Yet he had many excellent qualities. He was warm-hearted, generous to excess, had good parts, a brilliant way of talking, and was a favorite with all the world.
He had not the splendid gifts which nature had bestowed upon Julian Winstanley. By the side of her father, even in the eyes of Ella, the bright halo which surrounded her lover would seem somewhat to pale. The young man even appeared to feel this, in some degree, himself. He always, yet with a certain grace, took the second place, when in her father's presence. Ella loved her father, and seemed to like that it should be so.
"Oh, my sister! oh, my friend! what--what shall we do? Oh, misery! misery! what is to become of us all?"
Clementina's eyes were swimming with tears; but she would not give way. In passive endurance she excelled her sister.