urring like
many women. I don't care to be always kissing and hanging about anybody.
But if you are afraid I don't love you enough--well! I will ask you what
you think in ten years' time."

"What would you say if I told you I had once loved a girl better than I
do you?" I asked.

"That's not true," she said, sharply. "I've known you all your life, and
you could not hide such a thing from your mother and me. You are only
laughing at me, Martin."

"Heaven knows I'm not laughing," I answered, solemnly; "it's no laughing
matter. Julia, there is a girl I love better than you, even now."

The color and the smile faded out of her face, leaving it ashy pale. Her
lips parted once or twice, but her voice failed her. Then she broke out
into a short, hysterical laugh.

"You are talking nonsense, dear Martin!" she gasped; "you ought not! I
am not very strong. Get me a glass of water."

I fetched a glass of water from the kitchen; for the servant, who had
been at work, had gone home, and we were quite alone in the house. When
I returned, her face was still working with nervous twitchings.

"Martin, you ought not!" she repeated, after she had swallowed some
water. "Tell me it is a joke directly."

"I cannot," I replied, painfully and sorrowfully; "it is the truth,
though I would almost rather face death than own it. I love you dearly,
Julia; but I love another woman better. God help us both!"

There was dead silence in the room after those words. I could not hear
Julia breathe or move, and I could not look at her. My eyes were turned
toward the window and the islands across the sea, purple and hazy in the
distance.

"Leave me!" she said, after a very long stillness; "go away, Martin."

"I cannot leave you alone," I exclaimed; "no, I will not, Julia. Let me
tell you more; let me explain it all. You ought to know every thing
now."

"Go away!" she repeated, in a slow, mechanical tone.

I hesitated still, seeing her white and trembling, with her eyes glassy
and fixed. But she motioned me from her toward the door, and her pale
lips parted again to reiterate her command.

How I crossed that room I do not know; but the moment after I had closed
the door I heard the key turn in the lock. I dared not quit the house
and leave her alone in such a state; and I longed ardently to hear the
clocks chime five, and the sound of Johanna's wheels on the
roughly-paved street. She could not be here yet for a full half-hour,
for she had t