“Oh! no! no! I have been dull and tired here, for a long while; and I thought, when you told me that Mr. Kingsley had gone to Alabama, how delightful it would be if we could go too.” “But you never told me that.” “No.” “Nor even looked it, Julia.” “Surely not--I should have been loath to have you think, while your business was so prosperous, and you seemed so well satisfied here, that I had any discontent.” “I satisfied!” I said this rather to myself than her. “Yes, were you not? I had no reason to think otherwise. Nay, I feared you were too well satisfied, for I have seen so little of you of late. I'm sure I wished we were anywhere, so that you could find your home more to your liking.” “And have such notions really filled your brain Julia?” “Really.” “And you have found me a stranger--you have missed me?” “Ah! do you not know it, Edward?” “You shall have no need to reproach me hereafter. We will go to Alabama, and live wholly for one another. I shall leave you in business time only, and hurry back as soon as I can.” “Ah, promise me that?” “I do!” “We shall be so happy then. Then we shall take our old rambles, Edward, though in new regions, and will resume the pencil, if you wish it.” This was said timidly. “To be sure I wish it. But why do you say, 'resume'? Have you not been painting all along?” “No! I have scarcely smeared canvass the last two months” “But you have been sketching?” “No!” “What employed you then in the studio? How have you passed your mornings?” This inquiry was made abruptly, but it did not disturb her. Her answer was strangely satisfactory. “I have scarcely looked in upon the studio in all that time.” I longed to ask what Edgerton had done with himself, and whether he had been suffered to employ himself alone, in his morning visits, but my tongue faltered--I somehow dared not. Still, it was something to have her assurance that she had not found her attractions in that apartment in which my jealous fancy had assumed that she took particular delight. She had spoken with the calmness of innocence, and I was too happy to believe her. I put my arms about her waist. “Yes, we will renew the old habits, for I suppose that business there will be less pressing, less exacting, than I have found it here. We will take our long walks, Julia, and make up for lost time in new sketches. You have thought me a truant, Julia--neglectful hitherto! Have you not?” “Ah, Edward!”--Her eyes filled with tears, but a smile, like rainbow, made them bright. “Say, did you not?” “Do not be angry with me if I confess I thought you very much altered in some respects. I was fearful I had vexed you.” “You shall have no more reason to fear. We shall be the babes in the wood together. I am sure we shall be quite happy, left to ourselves. No doubts, no fears--nothing but love. And you are really willing to go?” “Willing! I wish it! I can get ready in a day.”