To Arthur this interview was indeed a painful one.

From the moment his resolution to depart had been fixed, that moment the blessed truth had strangely and suddenly burst upon him that he was beloved; a new spirit appeared to dawn within, and midst the deep agony it was to feel he was parting for ever from a being he so dearly loved, there was a glow of approving conscience that nerved him to its endurance.

It was this which had enabled him to conquer his irritation at Percy's violence, and the grief it was to feel that Herbert too must doubt him.

He esteemed, he loved, was deeply grateful to Mr.Hamilton, and his evident displeasure was hard to bear; yet even that he had borne, strengthened by secret yet honourable incentives.

But that morning, his heart throbbing with ill-concealed anguish, for the following day he would he miles from Oakwood, never, never to behold Emmeline again, his frame weakened, his blood fevered from the long-continued mental struggle, the stern address of Mr.Hamilton stung him to the quick.
Mr.Hamilton was not one of those who could disguise his sentiments.