In the meantime Mervin pursued his career with astonishing success. The enthusiasm of his soul was thrown into all he attempted, and urged on by the overpowering passion of his heart, it was no wonder that he accomplished well whatever he undertook. Amateurs declared his talents to be of the highest order, and brother artists acknowledged his success, considering his years and opportunities for cultivation, to be unprecedented. His future greatness was confidently predicted, and a few of the patrons of the fine arts met together, and consulted on a proposal to send him to Europe, that so promising a genius should possess every facility for perfecting his style by the study of the old masters. A liberal fund was subscribed for that purpose, and offered with such delicacy that Mervin felt no hesitation in accepting it as a loan, to be repaid when his exertions had won the means of so doing. His preparations were soon completed, and a farewell visit to his family made. Then came the first bitter trial of his life—the parting from Julia Selwyn. The inexperienced youth, ignorant of the conventional distinctions of society, had uttered the first promptings of his heart to the object of his suddenly awakened passion; but a few weeks sufficed to show one of his quick perception and nice tact, the wide gulf that separated the daughter of a reputed millionaire from the humble child of genius. In words his passion had never since been expressed, yet Julia felt that to the last throb of that impetuous heart she would be the dearest of earthly objects. He could not leave her thus—she had ever smiled on him, and from her own lips he must learn his fate. The years of toil which lay before him, would, for her sake, be sweet, and his heart trembled as he contemplated his future if no such bright hope rose over its distant horizon. If it were denied, deprived of all motive for exertion, he must sink at once into insignificance. The pride of genius—the consciousness of powers which raised him above the mass of his fellows, was bowed before the consuming passion that formed the inspiration of his day dreams, and the theme of his sleeping visions. With feelings alternately elevated or depressed, as hope or fear prevailed in his mind, he repaired to the mansion of Mr. Selwyn. He found Julia alone, apparently awaiting the arrival of her party to attend a ball, for her dress was in the latest style of elegance. As he entered, she arose from the examination of a book of engravings, and advanced to meet him. “She knows that I am about to leave my native land, and yet she could array herself for a ball,” thought Mervin, and his cheek grew paler than before. Julia noted the emotion, and frankly extending her hand said— “I knew you would come, and though ready to go to Mrs. Lacy’s party, I feigned a headache, and staid at home to receive you. I did not know—I did not hear that you had finally decided to leave, until we were nearly ready to enter the carriage.”