The conference was neither so short nor so conclusive as the lady had
designed. The gentleman was not so easily satisfied. He had all the
disposition to persevere that Sir Thomas could wish him. He had
vanity, which strongly inclined him in the first place to think she did
love him, though she might not know it herself; and which, secondly,
when constrained at last to admit that she did know her own present
feelings, convinced him that he should be able in time to make those
feelings what he wished.

He was in love, very much in love; and it was a love which, operating
on an active, sanguine spirit, of more warmth than delicacy, made her
affection appear of greater consequence because it was withheld, and
determined him to have the glory, as well as the felicity, of forcing
her to love him.

He would not despair: he would not desist. He had every well-grounded
reason for solid attachment; he knew her to have all the worth that
could justify the warmest hopes of lasting happiness with her; her
conduct at this very time, by speaking the disinterestedness and
delicacy of her character (qualities which he believed most rare
indeed), was of a sort to heighten all his wishes, and confirm all his
resolutions. He knew not that he had a pre-engaged heart to attack.
Of that he had no suspicion. He considered her rather as one who had
never thought on the subject enough to be in danger; who had been
guarded by youth, a youth of mind as lovely as of person; whose modesty
had prevented her from understanding his attentions, and who was still
overpowered by the suddenness of addresses so wholly unexpected, and
the novelty of a situation which her fancy had never taken into account.