5

He flung himself on this greene & for some moments gave way
to a burst of impassioned grief.-"Julia!-Julia!"-he exclaimed
from time to time - "Oh Julia is it possible." But he did not-he could
not breathe aloud, the possibility, which presented itself to his mind-
which tore his heart.- The tears, which fell in torrents on his bosom,
relieved the pressure , which had almost suffocated him.
The solitude & stillness of the scene- the hum of insects, the sighing
of the wind-the murmur of the stream, were the only sounds which
broke this stillness & they soothed the perturbation of his soul.

As his tranquillity returned, he felt able to compare his own
observations, with what he had heard from the artless Rosa
D'Aubigne loved Julia with all the fondness, but with all the punity
of a brother. Since her birth she had been the dear-
est ofject of his affections; he had carried her in his arms, had
rocked her cradle, had guided her infant steps-developed her first ideas.
He had been her earliest instructor-her constant companion &
her youthful protector. By how many ties was she bound to his heart! this even
stronger than those of nature. Could he then see her unhappy so not he
unhappy too. Could be believe her in danger- & in such a danger & not
feel alarmed & wretched? Was it possible that the reproofs of Mrs Edward
were merited- that the self accusations he had heard from Julia, were
just?- How was this possible, when he had seen her in society, so admired
so caressed. When he found her surrounded with persons of the first distinction-
not only in rank, but virtues & talents. How was it possible, when he saw her
so happy, so gay- so engrossed with her children- so fond of intellectual em-
ployment?--No, no, it was impossible that Julia could be guilty
of any serious error- of indiscretion she might be-but exposed as she
was exposed to the seductions of the world; the spoiled child of fortuned of Nature,
with a composition so gay- a heart so ardent- an imagination so exalted,
would it be wonderful, would it be inexcusable, if she sometimes
deviated from the strict line of propriety? And her husband too-
What was he ? where was he ? Until that morning D'Aubigne had imagined
he was gone on a distant journey, had attributed the occasional
sadness which he had discovered under Julia's gaiety- to his absence
caused perhaps by some painful embarrassment.