ter they were all
extremely happy together.

So far as he could judge, they were very superior young people, both
intellectually and spiritually. The girl spoke French, and her brother
German, with what seemed to him remarkable proficiency. Their young
minds were the repositories of an astounding amount of information:
they knew who Charles the Bold was; they pointed out to their uncle the
distinction between Gothic and Romanesque arches; they explained what
was the matter with the Anabaptists; they told him that the story of
the Bishop and the rats at Bingen was a baseless myth, and that probably
there had never been any such man as William Tell. Nor did they get all
this out of the guide-books which they pored over with such zest. It was
impossible not to see that they were familiar with large numbers of the
subjects that these books discussed, and that the itinerary which
they marked out had reference to desires and interests that they had
cultivated for themselves.

Julia, upon even first sight, made a much pleasanter impression than her
mother's hesitating description had prepared him for. As he came to know
her well, he ceased to remember that there was a question in any mind
as to her being a pretty girl. There was less colour in her face than he
could have wished. Her smooth, pallid skin, almost waxen in texture, had
a suggestion of delicate health which sometimes troubled him a little,
but which appealed to the tenderness in his nature all the time. The
face was unduly thin, perhaps, but this, and the wistful glance of the
large grey eyes in repose, made up an effect that Thorpe found touched
him a good deal. Even when she was in visibly high spirits, the look in
these eyes seemed to him to be laying claim to his protection. She
could be merry upon occasion, in a gentle and tranquil way, and as her
self-confidence expanded under the shelter of their growing intimacy,
she disclosed to her uncle plenty of initiative and individuality--but
what he felt in her most was a peculiarly sweet and girlish
trustfulness, which made him like himself more than he had ever
done before. He could feel that he was at his very best--a hitherto
unsuspected best--when Julia was about. He wanted to buy for her
everything in the windows upon which she bestowed the most casual
approving glance. It was a delight merely to look at her, and to
meditate upon the felicity of being able to do things for so charming a
girl.

Alfred made