Julia (Chapter_5)

wax lights; and in a grove, instead of a drawing room-"The heat of crowded rooms, at this season, is overpowering," she continued, "and had I not found out a cool retreat, I should certainly have acted a fine die-away scene for your amusement." The party did not break up until after one o'clock. On their way home Julia threw herself back into the carriage and spoke not a word to the anxious friend who sat beside her. The silence was interrupted only, by a low and heavy sigh, which from time to time seemed to escape from her bosom; at last unable to bear the inquietude he felt, D'auigne exclaimed, "Julia I cannot understand you." "Nor can I understand myself," said she;" all is perplexity--doubt-anxiety." "Could a friend--a sincere and devoted friend, assist to remove those doubts, clear those perplexities--alleviate those anxieties?" "Death is the only friend that can release me from"--she stopped. He would have pursued his enquiry, but laying her hand on his, she said in a solemn voice. "Not now Henry--wait but a little while--the chains which bind me to life and misery will be broken, and you may then know,-then understand your new mysterious friend." The carriage stopped--D'aubigne dropped a tear on her hand,which he held affectionally in his, as he bade her goodnight. Her eyes were not dry, as she turned from him, and returned to her chamber.