“There was a time when I believed you were not wholly indifferent to me.” “I am not now, any more than then,” she replied, with a calmness which almost prostrated the ardent wooer. “You distort my meaning. I speak not of simple friendship or mere regard. Do you love me, Julia?” “I do not.” Dr. Lynch sprang from his chair. He seemed to be furious in his disappointment; like one of those sunny-clime lovers who, refused, clap a pistol to their heads, and blow out their brains, or find a grave in the deepest waters that flow within their reach. He indulged in sharp, impatient, convulsive movements; his eyes glared out the window, at the floor, at the ceiling. And Julia was calm as a summer rainbow while the lightnings gleam and the thunder roars in the opposite horizon. This is something which some men must have, as some children must have the whooping cough. It is really terrible, but nothing can be done. “Julia,” cried the doctor, suddenly dashing across the room to the place where she sat,--“Julia, _can_ you ever love me?” “I don’t know.” “Can you permit me to hope?” “I fear it would be useless to anticipate such a conclusion of the whole matter,” she replied, smiling. The doctor demonstrated again for a few moments. She was as cold as an iceberg. “You close the door of hope against me?” “I do not.” “You permit me to hope?” “Yes, if you will.” “Forgive me, Julia; do you love another?” “Not even my best friend may ask me such a question.” She blushed deeply. “You love Mr. Birch; and he is worthy of you,” groaned the doctor. “Mr. Birch never spoke a word to me on such a subject; never even hinted at it.” “Do you not love him?” “I will not answer.” “If you do, Julia, it is right that you should say so to me.” “I have said all that I would say, even to my own mother, concerning Mr. Birch. Neither you, nor any one, has the right to catechise me on that which every woman must conceal until it reveals itself.” “I did not ask for the purpose of impertinently prying into your affairs, Miss Hungerford,” continued the doctor, rather coldly. “If you love Mr. Birch, any attentions from me would be an annoyance to you.” “I wish to meet you as we have always met. I regard you as a strong personal friend, to whom I am under no common obligations.” “Do not speak of obligations.” “It gives me great satisfaction to acknowledge them. Any attentions you may be disposed to bestow upon me will always be gratefully received.” “You do not accept the issue as it is. I love you. I have committed myself both by word and deed. I have given you the power to say you have rejected me.” “I have not rejected you; if I had, I could not mention it.” “You have not?” “No.” “You have said that you regard my suit as hopeless.” “That is my opinion.” “If Mr. Birch----”