It was from her face that I formed a rational conjecture of the expression that must have appeared in mine. Her eyes dilated with a look of timid wonder, not unmixed with apprehension. She actually shrunk back a space; then, approaching, laid her hand upon my wrist, as she exclaimed:-- “God of heaven, Edward, what strange thought is in your bosom? what is the meaning of that look? Look not so again, if you would not kill me!” I averted my face from hers, but without speaking. She threw her arms around my neck. “Do not turn away from me, Edward. Do not, do not, I entreat you! You must not--no! not till you tell me what is troubling you--not till I soothe you, and make you love me again as much as you did at first.” When I turned to her again, the tears--hot, scalding tears--were already streaming down my cheeks. “Julia, God knows I love you! Never woman yet was more devotedly loved by man! I love you too much--too deeply--too entirely! Alas, I love nothing else!” “Say not that you love me too much--that can not be! Do I not love you--you only, you altogether? Should I not have your whole love in return?” “Ah, Julia! but my love is a convulsive eagerness of soul--a passion that knows no limit! It is not that my heart is entirely yours: it is that it is yours with a frenzied desperation. There is a fanaticism in love as in religion. My love is that fanaticism. It burns--it commands--where yours would but soothe and solicit.” “But is mine the less true--the less valuable for this, dear Edward?” “No, perhaps not! It may be even more true, more valuable; it may be only less intense. But fanaticism, you know, is exacting--nothing more so. It permits no half-passion, no moderate zeal. It insists upon devotion like its own. Ah, Julia, could you but love as I do!” “I love you all, Edward, all that I can, and as it belongs in my nature to love. But I am a woman, and a timid one, you know. I am not capable of that wild passion which you feel. Were I to indulge it, it would most certainly destroy me. Even as it sometimes appears in you, it terrifies and unnerves me. You are so impetuous!” “Ah, you would have only the meek, the amiable!”