"What is the matter--are you sick, Julia!"

"No! nothing. But the letter--where is it?"

"I threw it on my table, or in my desk, with other papers, to have

them out of the way; and hurrying home sooner than usual, forgot to

bring it with me. I suppose there's nothing in it of any importance?"

"No, nothing, I suppose," she answered faintly.

I told her what I had done with respect to our guests.

"I am very sorry," she answered, "that you have done so. I do not

feel like company, and wished to have you all to myself."

"Oh, selfish; but of this I will believe moderately! As for company,

with the exception of Wharton, they are old friends; and it would

not do to take a pleasure ramble, with poor Edgerton here, and

not make him a party."

There was an earnest intensity of gaze, almost amounting to a painful

stare, in Julia's eyes, as I said these words. She really seemed

distressed.

"But really, Edward, our pleasure ramble is not such a one as would

make it a duty to invite your friends. How difficult it seems for

you to understand me. Could not we two stroll a piece into the

woods without having witnesses?"

"Why, is that all? Why then should you have made a formal appointment

for such a purpose? Could we not have gone as before--without

premeditation?"

The question puzzled her. She looked anxious. Had she answered with

sincerity--with truth--and could I have believed her to have been

sincere, how easy would it have been to have settled our difficulties.

Had she said--"I really wish to avoid Mr. Edgerton, whose presence

annoys me--who will be sure to come--when you are sure to be

gone--and whom I have particular reasons to wish not to meet--not

to see."

This, which might be the truth, she did not dare to speak. She

had her reasons for her apprehension. This, which was reasonable

enough, I could not conjecture; for the demon of the blind heart

was too busy in suggesting other conjectures. It was evident

enough that she had secret motives for her course, which she did

not venture to reveal to me; and nothing could be more natural, in

the diseased state of my mind, than that I should give the worst

colorings to these motives in the conjectures which I made upon

them. We were destined to play at cross-purposes much longer, and

with more serious issues.

Our friends came, and we set forth in the pleasant part of

the afternoon. We ascended our hill, and resting awhile upon the

summit, surveyed the prospect from that position. Then I conducted

the party through some of our woodland walks, which Julia and myself

had explored together. But I soon gave up the part of cicerone

to Wharton, who was to the "MANOR BORN." He was a native of the

neighborhood, boasted that he knew every "bosky dell of this wild

wood" and certainly conducted us to glimpses of prettiest heights,

and groves, and far vistas, where the light seemed to glide before

us in an embodied gray form, that stole away, and peeped backward

upon us from long allies of the darkest and most solemn-sighted

pines.




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