Who said George Eliot was boring?, or, Ooh, such language

From a book I'm currently reading, Scenes of Clerical Life, first published in 1857. It's not a novel but three loosely-linked stories.  For those interested in Charlotte Mason and the PNEU Schools, this was assigned to the high schoolers in Form IV when they studied the mid-to-late nineteenth century, along with Cranford, Carlyle's Heroes and Hero Worship, and Tennyson's The Princess.

This is from "Mr Gilfil's Love-Story." Lifelong friends Caterina Sarti and The Reverend Maynard Gilfil (he's in love with her, but she is mooning after a cad who is otherwise engaged) are having a heart-to-heart.

'....If it were not that Sir Christopher [her adopted father] and Lady Cheverel would be displeased and puzzled at your wishing to leave home just now, I would beg you to pay a visit to my sister. She and her husband are good creatures, and would make their house a home to you. But I could not urge the thing just now without giving a special reason; and what is most of all to be dreaded is the raising of any suspicion in Sir Christopher's mind of what has happened in the past, or of your present feelings. You think so too, don't you, Tina?'

Mr. Gilfil paused again, but Caterina said nothing. She was looking away from him, out of the window, and her eyes were filling with tears. He rose, and, advancing a little towards her, held out his hand and said, --'Forgive me, Caterina, for intruding on your feelings in this way. I was so afraid you might not be aware how Miss Assher watched you. Remember, I entreat you, that the peace of the whole family depends on your power of governing yourself. Only say you forgive me before I go.'

'Dear, good Maynard,' she said, stretching out her little hand, and taking two of his large fingers in her grasp, while her tears flowed fast; 'I am very cross to you. But my heart is breaking. I don't know what I do. Good-bye.'

He stooped down, kissed the little hand, and then left the room.

'The cursed scoundrel!' he muttered between his teeth, as he closed the door behind him. 'If it were not for Sir Christopher, I should like to pound him into paste to poison puppies like himself.'