But the feelings such visions excited were not calm enough for undisturbed repose: he heard the beating of his own heart, through his sleep; he began to fear he was dreaming; he tried not to awake--but it would not do: his eyes opened; he saw the sun shining through his window-curtains; he started upright in his bed. A tide of contradictory recollections poured in upon him; but, alas! where were those so full of bliss?--They were in his dream!--they were not to be recalled; yet, while he could contrive to discourage all thought, a vaguely pleasing impression remained, as though something very delightful had lately happened! He dressed mechanically; when, crossing his apartment to step forth by a glass door, which opened on the lawn, he caught a glimpse of Julia, turning into one of the walks of the shrubbery. His heart began again to beat audibly, as it had done in his dream; he stumbled against his valet, who stood offering him his hat, and, going out without it, flew across the green to join her. She, too, had had her reflections: she had reproached herself for having treated Edmund quite like a stranger. "And without any fault of his," said she to herself--for Julia was a great respecter of justice, and, on the present occasion, fancied herself guided entirely by its dictates. There was not one hour of her whole existence, (that she could remember,) when Edmund had not shared with Frances her sisterly affection; and he had not done any thing wrong, she argued with herself--any thing unkind, any thing to forfeit any one's regard; then would it not be very wrong, very unjust of her, if she did not still love--that is to say, still consider him as her brother. Had not grandmamma and Mr. Jackson always loved him as much as if he was really so; and, of course, they did so still, and so ought Frances and herself.