Sons of Fire, Volume I by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

Allan was dashed by Suzette's refusal to accept him on any other footing than that of friendship, and he was angry with himself for having spoken too soon. The only comfort left him was her willingness to consider him still her friend; but this was cold comfort, and in some wise more disheartening than if she had been more angry. Yet in his musings he could but think that she liked him better than a mere average acquaintance; while now and then there stole across his mind the flattering hope that she liked him better than she herself knew. He recalled all those happy hours they had spent together, with only Mrs. Wornock to make a third, Mrs. Wornock who so often crept away to her beloved organ and left them free to loiter in the gardens, or to sit in one of the deeply recessed windows, talking in whispers, while the music filled the room, or to stray far off in the stately pleasaunce, where their light laughter could not disturb the player.

They had talked together often enough and long enough to have explored each other's minds and imaginations, and they had found that about all great things they thought alike; while their differences of opinion about the trifles of life gave them subjects for mirthful argument, occasions for disagreeing only to end in agreement.