第39章

"With Julia Franklin," said Belcour. The name, like a sudden spark of electric fire, seemed for a moment to suspend his faculties--for a moment he was transfixed; but recovering, he caught Belcour's hand, and cried--'Stop! stop! I beseech you, name not the lovely Julia and the wretched Montraville in the same breath.

I am a seducer, a mean, ungenerous seducer of unsuspecting innocence.

I dare not hope that purity like her's would stoop to unite itself with black, premeditated guilt: yet by heavens I swear, Belcour, I thought I loved the lost, abandoned Charlotte till I saw Julia--I thought I never could forsake her; but the heart is deceitful, and Inow can plainly discriminate between the impulse of a youthful passion, and the pure flame of disinterested affection."At that instant Julia Franklin passed the window, leaning on her uncle's arm. She curtseyed as she passed, and, with the bewitching smile of modest chearfulness, cried--"Do you bury yourselves in the house this fine evening, gents?" There was something in the voice! the manner! the look! that was altogether irresistible.

"Perhaps she wishes my company," said Montraville mentally, as he snatched up his hat: "if I thought she loved me, I would confess my errors, and trust to her generosity to pity and pardon me."He soon overtook her, and offering her his arm, they sauntered to pleasant but unfrequented walks. Belcour drew Mr. Franklin on one side and entered into a political discourse: they walked faster than the young people, and Belcour by some means contrived entirely to lose sight of them.

It was a fine evening in the beginning of autumn; the last remains of day-light faintly streaked the western sky, while the moon, with pale and virgin lustre in the room of gorgeous gold and purple, ornamented the canopy of heaven with silver, fleecy clouds, which now and then half hid her lovely face, and, by partly concealing, heightened every beauty; the zephyrs whispered softly through the trees, which now began to shed their leafy honours; a solemn silence reigned:

and to a happy mind an evening such as this would give serenity, and calm, unruffled pleasure; but to Montraville, while it soothed the turbulence of his passions, it brought increase of melancholy reflections.

Julia was leaning on his arm: he took her hand in his, and pressing it tenderly, sighed deeply, but continued silent.

Julia was embarrassed; she wished to break a silence so unaccountable, but was unable; she loved Montraville, she saw he was unhappy, and wished to know the cause of his uneasiness, but that innate modesty, which nature has implanted in the female breast, prevented her enquiring.

"I am bad company, Miss Franklin," said he, at last recollecting himself;"but I have met with something to-day that has greatly distressed me, and I cannot shake off the disagreeable impression it has made on my mind. ""I am sorry," she replied, "that you have any cause of inquietude.

I am sure if you were as happy as you deserve, and as all your friends wish you--" She hesitated. "And might l," replied he with some animation, "presume to rank the amiable Julia in that number?""Certainly," said she, "the service you have rendered me, the knowledge of your worth, all combine to make me esteem you.""Esteem, my lovely Julia," said he passionately, "is but a poor cold word.

I would if I dared, if I thought I merited your attention--but no, I must not--honour forbids. I am beneath your notice, Julia, I am miserable and cannot hope to be otherwise." "Alas!" said Julia, "I pity you.""Oh thou condescending charmer," said he, 'how that sweet word chears my sad heart. Indeed if you knew all, you would pity;but at the same time I fear you would despise me."Just then they were again joined by Mr. Franklin and Belcour.

It had interrupted an interesting discourse. They found it impossible to converse on indifferent subjects, and proceeded home in silence.

At Mr. Franklin's door Montraville again pressed Julia's hand, and faintly articulating 'good night," retired to his lodgings dispirited and wretched, from a consciousness that he deserved not the affection, with which he plainly saw he was honoured.