Edmund, it may be remembered, had long ago said, that he had always thought Julia's smile the thing in all nature the most beautiful to look on! He now thought so with more fervour than ever, but with less pleasure; for he now envied Lord Morven, each of whose supposed soft whispers seemed to be welcomed by the growing brightness of that smile, and by the corresponding glow that grew with it on the cheek, where sparkling dimples momentarily came, and went, and came again. And then, without distinctly determining why, he suddenly began to think of the vast disparity of birth, and consequent place in society, between himself and Julia; while some busy fiends seemed to press on his notice the exact suitability of Lord Morven's rank and circumstances, in every particular. Julia made some observation to his lordship. Edmund's eyes rested on the motions of her lips while she spoke; and (strange flight of fancy!) he, at this critical moment, called to mind an ancient family legend, which asserted, that eighteen years since he had actually kissed those lips--those very lips! Eighteen years! nay, five years since, could he not himself perfectly remember having, as a matter of course, on his arrival, kissed little Julia most affectionately; while those white arms, which now dazzled his sight across the table, had hung around his neck. He wondered if she remembered it, and what she thought about it, if she did. He supposed such a salutation would now be considered very strange--indeed quite improper, quite impertinent, even had they not met before so large a company. He wondered too, how little consequence he had attached to the circumstance at the time, though he had always idolized her as a child, from the enthusiastic fondness she had always shown for him. Did any of that feeling still exist? How well he could remember her insisting on sitting close beside him, with a hand of his in both of hers, and her full eyes raised to his, to watch his every look. Unlucky recollections! for, in efforts of the imagination to identify the Julia so remembered, with the Julia now before him, he nearly lost his dinner. He rejected and accepted, in the same breath, whatever was offered him; allowed the plates that had each, for a limited time, stood before him in due succession, to go away almost untouched; and when rallied by Lord Arandale on his want of appetite, and asked whether he had left his heart with some foreign fair one, or eat luncheon, he replied, that he had made an excellent dinner. When, however, convicted of having scarcely tasted any thing, by the united testimony both of Frances and Lady Susan, who had hitherto only suppressed their laughter, for fear of awaking him from his reverie, he changed his ground of defence, said he was too much fatigued to eat, and called for wine and water.