3

frank and candid Julia, her artifice and dissimulation were
detestable--The blandishments of her fondness became
disgusting, while the coldness of Julia imitated his self-love
and kindled his long
dormant but not extinguished affection. Under the influence
of such feelings, he watched with anguish the { ?}
kindness which she showed to Capt Mirvan.
This he had no right to blame, and no power to restrict.
It was an evil he had brought upon himself, but it was not
therefore the less intolerable. It was in vain he {ought?}
to lose a sense of his misery in the excitements of the { ?}
or of cards--Whatever was his occupation, he thought only
of his wife, and to get rid of the pangs inflicted by
jealousy, that most tormenting of all passions, he was willing
to { ?} the ruin which he had { ?}
by means so degrading and dangerous.
Under the influence of this new set of feelings, he
now seldom was absent from home. He haunted
the appartments of his house, and the surrounding scenes
which had so often been witnesses of his past happenings
like a melancholy ghost. In the midst of company
while he conversed with many, he destined only to Julia.
Seated by the side of Madam Luneville, listening
or talking, his attention tho' apparently engaged
by her, was fixed on Julia. At the card table
instead of minding his game, he made the most
absurd blunders, threw away his cards, irratated his
partner and lost bet after bet, while his eyes were
wandering to the spot where Julia was with the
never wearied Capt Mirvan by her side. Or sometimes
when she sat down to her piano and he heard the tunes
which he had often heard in happier times, when she
sang, when she played for him.--when that voice was
attuned by love, and that expressive countenance was fixed on
him, he would start from his chair, throw his cards
on the table, and in spite of the remonstrances of his party, would
go to this instrument and leaning against the wall, would
gaze on a face, now averted from him, and listen to