* * * * * Julia buried her face in her hands and remained in deep and painful thought. She had instinctively known all that her mother had just expressed relative to Mervin; yet she would not reflect on it. A year had passed since the first impassioned declaration of the young painter. His lips had uttered no word of love in that time, but his devotion of manner had expressed all that the most exacting mistress could have asked. Julia fancied that she received his homage merely as the incense due to her unrivaled charms—that her own heart was still unscathed—yet why did she listen for his step, and turn listlessly away from her usual occupations until shared by him? Why did the faint crimson steal to her cheeks as he sat beside her and spoke in those low, earnest tones, so different from the _persiflage_ of the set in which she habitually lived? Enthusiasm ever finds in the hearts of the young a chord which vibrates to the touch of him who possesses it, and before she was aware of her danger, that of Julia Selwyn was devotedly attached to Mervin. Nature and education were at war within her. The consent of her parents would never be given to her union with him she well knew—and too much of worldliness still clung to her, to be willing to descend from her high estate to link her fortunes with those of her poor, though gifted lover. Yet her heart shrank from the sacrilege of giving herself to another. She might for years remain the idol of the hour, until her beauty began to wane, and in those years, perhaps Mervin might achieve a degree of celebrity that must lead to fortune—if not—she could then fulfill the desire of her parents in bestowing her hand on some wealthy suitor. The lover destined for her by her parents made his appearance, and in spite of her mother’s determination not to reveal his name, Julia at once detected the anxiety of her parents that Mr. Herbert should succeed in winning her. He was young, and rather handsome, with quiet, gentlemanly manners; but when compared with the young painter he appeared very commonplace. Herbert was already in possession of a handsome estate, and owned a large interest in the firm of which her father was the principal. He was just the sort of person Julia felt safe in trifling with. He had no romance, and was of an extremely indolent temper—for years he would be content to creep toward an object he had once proposed to himself to attain. He was not jealous, and with perfect calmness saw the girl he contemplated as his future wife, flirt with the gayest and handsomest men of the city. He seemed to possess some assurance in his own mind that she must eventually yield to the fate which decreed her to become Mrs. Herbert, and until that time arrived, she might enjoy her liberty as best suited her inclinations.