Edmund, indeed, was a little disturbed, one day, by Mrs. Montgomery’s asking him, which he thought Julia received with most favour, the attentions of Lord Borrowdale, or those of her cousin: adding, how much she disapproved of Henry’s conduct in the business; and requesting that Edmund, when they returned on board, would give him leave of absence as seldom as possible. “For,” continued the old lady, “I have heard many sensible people say, that the sympathy which cousins naturally feel towards each other as relatives, is very apt to become love, (or, what is just as mischievous in its consequences, to be mistaken for it,) if young persons are allowed to be too much together. Now Lord Borrowdale, though a match of which her father would perfectly approve, is not, you know, near so handsome as Henry; who certainly has,” she added, with a sigh, “a great look of poor Maria.” She next adverted, but slightly, (having determined not to discuss the point at present,) to Edmund’s own prospects with respect to Lady Susan. He had either fallen into a reverie, or he thought the subject too ridiculous to be treated seriously; for he merely said, with an air of great indifference, and in reply to more than one hitherto unanswered observation of Mrs. Montgomery’s, “Oh, ma’am, that, you know, can never be any thing but a jest.” Immediately after, however, changing his manner, he broke forth into an energetic, and almost passionate speech on the impossibility of one situated as he was, one who had no home, no country, no kindred; who knew not to what rank in society he belonged; who had not even a name, but by courtesy, and who, therefore, could not bestow one; ever thinking of marrying any being, however dearly, however fondly cherished their idea might be to the latest moment of existence! All this was said with much feeling; for Julia was in every thought; while Mrs. Montgomery heard in it no denial of his attachment to Lady Susan; but, on the contrary, an implied confession of how much he regretted the obstacles which stood in the way of their union. She was beginning to say something, intended to raise her desponding favourite a little, in his own opinion, when the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Lord Borrowdale. Edmund left the room half awakened from his dream of bliss; and, therefore, far from happy. The uneasy feeling, however, lasted but till he had found Julia; met her eye, and seen her smile; and then vanished with a celerity, which none can understand but those who have felt the powerful, internal evidence, a look can convey. CHAPTER III. “What moves thy spirit thus?” Julia often happened to walk out before breakfast. Sometimes Frances was with her, and sometimes not; but Edmund always happened to join her.