Much further conversation ensued, and just as they parted, Mervin repeated her own words, “Remember, love, till the last hope of life has departed, you are mine, and mine alone.” Julia repeated them solemnly, happily, unconscious in how different a sense from that understood by the lover, they would be acted on. * * * * * Two years passed by. The most favorable accounts were received of the progress of Mervin. He had passed the greater portion of that time in Italy, and several beautiful specimens of his rapid improvement had been transmitted to his friends in his native land. The lovers contrived to keep up a correspondence, though the letters were few and far between, as the greatest caution was observed to prevent the parents of the fair _fiancée_ from suspecting the romantic attachment of their daughter. Julia well knew that such a discovery would be followed by a command to trifle no longer with the pretensions of Mr. Herbert. Already they had manifested both impatience and displeasure at her conduct to that gentleman. He still continued the same placid and attentive lover; never elated by the smiles of his mistress, nor depressed by her frowns; he pursued the “even tenor of his way,” seemingly assured of final success where a more mercurial person would have despaired. At length the crisis in the destiny of the belle approached. One morning her father entered her room and requested a few moment’s uninterrupted conversation with her. Julia sent her young sister from the apartment and prepared to listen to a remonstrance in favor of Mr. Herbert’s pretensions. “My daughter,” he began, “the time has arrived when I can no longer postpone the explanation of our position in regard to Mr. Herbert. You have trifled with him so long, that I despair of ever seeing you voluntarily become his wife.” “And is there any absolute necessity that I should unite myself to a man I can never love, father?” “So much the worse, child. Love, at any rate, is a mere chimera—an ignis fatuus, that misleads the young. At all events you must make up your mind to marry Herbert, or I am a ruined man.” “How can that result be brought about by my refusal to accept him?” faltered poor Julia. “It is a story, my dear, I would not care to tell you, if it could be avoided; but I see no hope of influencing you by other means—so you must e’en hear it. Sit down, and don’t look so alarmed. You are pale as death, and trembling like a frightened dove.” Julia sunk back in her seat, and prepared to listen with as much calmness as she could command.