The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 288: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—— / THE PRECEPTOR AND HIS PUPIL 271 “TI wish to have it finished, Mr. Deveril,’’ answered Florina, “‘ because my aunt is desirous to present it to some one of her acquaintance. I had therefore purposed to beg you to extend the lesson to at least two hours, — that is, if it do not interfere with any previous arrangement which you have made.”’ “ And if I had made any, it should cheerfully be put off for your ladyship,” replied Deveril, with a warmth of tone which suddenly made Florina start and the colour rush to her cheeks, for there was something in those accents which touched the tenderest chord that thrilled to her heart’s core; for she knew that Deveril loved her, and this was another of those unwitting and almost unconscious proofs of that love which from time to time escaped him. But how did the innocent and artless Florina know that Deveril loved her? Had he ever declared his passion? No, he had not dared to do so, nor had she ever ventured to encourage him in such daring. But to those who love, the sions and evidences of love in others are as intelligible as a language which, though unknown to some, is yet a facile means of interchanging thoughts with those who can speak it. For love has its own peculiar language, which though often ineffable is nevertheless potent in its silent eloquence, —a, language whose syllables and words and sentences are expressed by a thousand little circumstances that pass unnoticed by the common observer, but which are full of meaning to those whose hearts afford the key to the reading of those mysteries. Thus a gesture, a suppressed sigh, a look hurriedly given and as hurriedly withdrawn, the flitting blush upon the cheeks, the thrill which is mutually ex- perienced when the hands accidentally come in contact, the visible quivering of the entire form at such contact, the subdued, hushed tone in which words are spoken at one moment, and the suddenly excited warmth with which they are uttered at another, although the words themselves may be merely commonplace, — all these are the signs and emblems and soul-waftings of love. But more, when two beings of kindred dispositions and congenial spirits, and in whose union there appears to be a fitness marked by nature and designated by Heaven, when two such beings meet, although they may give no single one of all those signs. of mutual passion, yet is there not such a thing as the solt CONnNIEOOOKS (S(O)