aside in that way. I always did consider
the men pretty stupid, because, as you very rightly said, they allow
themselves to be caught by such clumsy tricks and artifices. But that
they should not have recognized your worth, that they should not have
cut each others' throats about you--as they did before Troy for that
Grecian witch--that is really incomprehensible to me! They cannot all
be so conceited and foolish; and, after all, there must be a few--I,
myself, have known one or two--. But please lower your chin just a
trifle."

"Yes, it is true," continued Julie, "there are a few. I have even come
across one for whose sake I myself might finally have been induced to
take part in the comedy, had not all talent for that kind of thing been
denied me. What his name was, how he came to know me, cannot matter to
you. He long ago married another, and has probably forgotten all of me
but my name--if not that. I--one of us never forgets such an
experience, even when it lies dead and buried in some corner of our
hearts; for that I had a heart, as well as other people, I discovered
at that time only too plainly--I pleased him exceedingly--he took care
to let me see this on every occasion--and then he really was better by
far, and much less infected by conceit and selfishness than most of the
others; and my straight-forward way of showing myself just as I was,
without affecting any coquettish sensibility, seemed to be attractive
to him because of its very rarity. As he was rich, and my parents were
well off, there was, on the other hand, no outward hinderance in our
way. And so, although no binding words had been exchanged, we were
tacitly looked upon as a match--I think the men relinquished me to him
much more honestly than my female friends gave up this much-sought man
to me. To be sure I myself was, even in this case, at least outwardly
much cooler and more reserved than happy lovers generally. I was, at
heart, deeply attached to the man of my choice; but there was always
mixed with it a silent fear, a sort of lack of sympathy--perhaps a
prophetic impulse of my heart that warned me not to give myself up
absolutely and entirely to this love. And, one day, during a
conversation about an accident in a Brazilian mine, where fifty men had
suddenly been killed by an explosion of fire-damp, the storm burst upon
me, and I had to suffer with those distant victims. All were deeply
lamenting over the occurrence, as is the fashion. I remai