CHAPTER XLIV.

… “How thy cheek

Doth vary! But now, with feverish glow

It burnt, kindling as thou spakest, and now

White, and cold, it glistens in thy damp tears,

Like the pale lily in the morning dew.

Oh! shake not thus my soul, Comala!”

“Tomorrow, at sunrise! so soon, so soon?”

The next day Fitz-Ullin found it impossible to be a moment alone with

Julia. She fled all such occasions, with a species of terror, which

astonished him. In the evening he met her suddenly in the shrubbery.

“What can I have done, Julia?” he said, snatching the tremulous hand

with which she was hastily endeavouring to open a little paling gate for

the purpose of turning into another walk, evidently to avoid him. “Am I

no longer that Edmund whom you have honoured with the name of brother,

since—since before you could pronounce the word distinctly? Or can I be

expected to forget, entirely, that you are still the same Julia, the same

dearest, best beloved object of my earliest, and fondest affections!—” He

stopped short suddenly, as though he had been betrayed into expressions

he had not meant to use. Julia’s lip trembled, her eyes were fixed on the

ground, and every feature convulsed by efforts to restrain her tears.

“I see I am but adding to my offence,” he recommenced, “I but seem to you

to insult feelings which ought now to be sacred; with which, you think,

and justly, I ought not, on the strength of my knowledge of them, to

trifle: nor do I, heaven knows, entertain such a thought! But, what have

I done? why must I be denied your friendship? the continuation of your

confidence? Do not mistake me! Mine, Julia, mine are, I repeat it, but

the claims of a brother.”

Julia’s colour rose. “For heaven’s sake, what do you mean? what do you

dare to mean?” she exclaimed, and wrenching her hand from him, without

waiting his reply, she hastened to the house. He attempted to follow; but

she waved to him, to remain where he was. That evening, Julia avoided him

more than ever; and with an expression, too, on her countenance, of less

gentle displeasure than she had ever before evinced. When she was leaving

the supper room, he added to his good night, “I am going to-morrow;

early, very early;” extending, at the same time, a hand to each of the

sisters.

These words arrested the step of Julia for a moment. She yielded a

trembling hand, and attempted to utter a good night.

First Love: A Novel. Vol. 3 of 3 · 第 43 / 52 章