The delay had been more on the part of Julia than of her companion; for there was an extraordinary formality and coldness about his manner, he appeared, as it were, to wait her commands. His eyes were cast down, he was silent; not even a catch of the breath was audible, though more than once a movement of the chest might have indicated, to a close observer, that a rising sigh had been suppressed. “How unlike what Edmund used to be!” thought Julia. He had told her, in answer to some one of the obvious questions she had attempted during the dancing, that one of his names was still Edmund. “A strange time this he has chosen,” she thought, “to become cold and unfriendly to his oldest friends.” Yet she tried to congratulate him on the unexpected change in his fortunes, with much of real kindness, and an effort, at least, at playfulness of manner; for, thought Julia, “I must not pretend to understand this absurd grief about Lady Susan.” “It is a species of mockery, Julia,” he said, “to congratulate me on advantages which, however ardently desired at one period, can now but aggravate the bitterness of disappointment.” “Oh, Edmund,” said Julia, thrown off her guard by his look and voice of wretchedness, “why will you be miserable? Did not the real regard and friendship of all your early friends, long, long suffice for your happiness, and why will you suffer the disappointment of one, now you see, you—must see—never—well founded hope, to render valueless every real good.” But suddenly recollecting that her kindness was no longer generosity to the poor friendless Edmund, she checked herself, coloured, and became silent. Fitz-Ullin seemed to struggle for some time for composure, or for voice to reply. “That one hope, Julia,” he at length articulated with peculiar bitterness of tone, “however ill founded you assure me it has ever been——” “I assure you!” exclaimed Julia, with some surprise. “That one hope,” he continued, speaking with effort, and from his visibly increasing agitation, without noticing the interruption, “that one hope, was all that gave life value in my eyes.” “Indeed!” said Julia, assuming in her turn an air of coldness; and, for her, almost disdain.