At the word loveliness, Julia raised her eyes to his face with a slight blush--it was new language for Charles Weston to use, and it was just suited to her feelings. After a moment's pause, however, she replied-- "You use strong language, cousin Charles, such as is unusual for you." "Julia, although I may not often have expressed it, I have long thought you to be very lovely!" exclaimed the young man, borne away with his ardour at the moment. "Upon my word, Charles, you improve," said Julia, blushing yet more deeply, and, if possible, looking still handsomer than before. "Julia--Miss Warren--you tear my secret from me before its time--I love you, Julia, and would wish to make you my wife." This was certainly very plain English, nor did Julia misunderstand a syllable of what he said--but it was entirely new and unexpected to her; she had lived with Charles Weston with the confidence of a kinswoman, but had never dreamt of him as a lover. Indeed, she saw nothing in him that looked like a being to excite or to entertain such a passion; and although from the moment of his declaration she began insensibly to think differently of him, nothing was farther from her mind than to return his offered affection. But then the opportunity of making a sacrifice to her secret love was glorious, and her frankness forbade her to conceal the truth. Indeed, what better way was there to destroy the unhappy passion of Charles, than to convince him of its hopelessness? These thoughts flashed through her mind with the rapidity of lightning--and trembling with the agitation and novelty of her situation, she answered in a low voice-- "That, Charles, can never be." "Why never, Julia?" cried the youth, giving way at once to his long-suppressed feelings--"why never? Try me, prove me! there is nothing I will not do to gain your love." Oh! how seductive to a female ear is the first declaration of an attachment, especially when urged by youth and merit!--it assails her heart in the most vulnerable part, and if it be not fortified unusually well, seldom fails of success. Happily for Julia, the image of Antonio presented itself to save her from infidelity to her old attachment, and she replied-- "You are kind and good, Charles, and I esteem you highly--but ask no more, I beg of you." "Why, if you grant me this, why forbid me to hope for more?" said the youth eagerly, and looking really handsome. Julia hesitated a moment, and let her dark eyes fall before his ardent gaze, at a loss what to say--but the face of Apollo in the imperial uniform interposed to save her. "I owe it to your candour, Mr. Weston, to own my weakness--" she said, and hesitated. "Go on, Julia--my Julia," said Charles, in an unusually soft voice; "kill me at once, or bid me live!" Again Julia paused, and again she looked on her companion with kinder eyes than usual--when she felt the picture which lay next her heart, and proceeded--