United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"I’d like to see your commands enforced, Madam," said Julia, her beautiful
face dark with rage. "Yes, I’d like to see anybody make me go if I did not
wish to. Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and I would hardly go to save his
life."
"Oh, Julia, Julia!" said Mrs. Middleton bitterly, "has it come to this? I
can see it all now!"
"What all can you see so distinctly?" asked Julia scornfully.
"I can understand what part you have had in causing Mr. Wilmot’s death,"
answered Mrs. Middleton.
Julia turned ashy pale, and her mother continued—"Often in his ravings he
spoke of a letter, a cruel letter he called it, and I heard it hinted that
it was the receipt of that letter which brought on a relapse. Now you will
tell me whether you wrote that letter, and if so, what were its contents?"
"I wonder how I’m expected to know what letter you mean," said Julia.
"However, I did write to him and ask to be released from my engagement,
and I had my reasons for so doing."
Mrs. Middleton sighed and said, "It is as I feared; on you, Julia, rests
in a measure the cause of his death."
"Better call me a murderer at once. But I’ll not stay for more abuse,"
said Julia, as she left the room.
When she was gone Mrs. Middleton buried her face in her hands, and sent
forth sob after sob from her crushed heart—crushed by the sinfulness and
mocking disobedience of her first born. While she was still weeping, Fanny
stole softly from the apartment and went in quest of her sister. She found
her, as she had expected, in her room, and going up to her threw her arms
around her neck, and plead long and earnestly that she would go to Mr.
Wilmot. But Julia’s answer was ever the same, "No, I will not."
"And why will you not?" asked Fanny.
"Because," replied Julia, "Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and there is no
reason why I should go to him, more than to any other lovesick youth who
takes a fancy to send for me. You would not feel obliged to run if Bill
Jeffrey should have the measles and send for you."
"Oh, stop, stop," said Fanny, "you shall not liken Bill Jeffrey to Mr.
Wilmot, who is so good, so noble. You loved him once, and for the sake of
that love go to him now; it can do you no harm."
"It would seriously affect my plans for the future; and once for all, I
tell you I will not go," replied Julia.
"Then I will," said Fanny, "and show him that I, at least, have not
forgotten him."
This idea pleased Julia, and she answered, "I wish you would, for your
presence will do as much good as mine."
Fanny hastily ran down stairs and, going to her mother, said, "Mother,
Julia will not go, but I will. I should like to very much. Will you let
me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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