mewhat, as he spoke;
though what he said was but the simple truth, and it was well for him
perhaps at the present moment, that Julia did not see his face. For there
was much perturbation in it, and it is like that she would have judged
even more hardly of that perturbation than it entirely deserved. He paused
for a moment, and then added,

"But if the guilt of woman can be excusable at all, she can plead more in
extenuation of her errors, than any of her sex that ever fell from virtue.
She is most penitent; and might have been, but for fate and the atrocious
wickedness of others, a most noble being--as she is now a most glorious
ruin."

There was another pause, during which neither spoke or moved, Julia
overpowered by the excess of her feelings--he by the painful consciousness
of wrong; the difficulty of explaining, of extenuating his own conduct;
and above all, the dread of losing the enchanting creature, whom he had
never loved so deeply or so truly as he did now, when he had well nigh
forfeited all claim to her affection.

At length, she raised her eyes timidly to his, and said,

"This is all very strange--there must be much, that I have a right to
hear."

"There is much, Julia!--much that will be very painful for me to tell; and
yet more so for you to listen to."

"And will you tell it to me?"

"Julia, I will!"

"And all? and truly?"

"And all, and truly, if I tell you at all; but you--"

"First," she said, interrupting him, "read that strange letter to the end.
Then we will speak more of these things. Nay?" she continued, seeing that
he was about to speak, "I will have it so. It must be so, or all is at an
end between us two, now, and for ever. I do not wish to watch you; there
is no meanness in my mind, Paullus, no jealousy! I am too proud to be
jealous. Either you are worthy of my affection, or unworthy; if the
latter, I cast you from me without one pang, one sorrow;--if the first,
farther words are needless. Read that wild letter to the end. I will turn
my back to you." And seating herself at the table, she took up a piece of
embroidery, and made as if she would have fixed her mind upon it. But
Paullus saw, as his glance followed her, that, notwithstanding the
firmness of her words and manner, her hand trembled so much that she could
by no means thread her needle.

He gazed on her for a moment with passionate, despairing love, and as he
gazed, his spirit faltered, and he doubted. The evil genius wh