Love Finds No Smooth Water in the Sea of Law

"Julia!" I exclaimed, with a start which betrayed, I am sure, quite
as much surprise as pleasure. My mood was singularly inflexible.
My character was not easily shaken, and, once wrought upon by any
leading influence, my mind preserved the tone which it acquired
beneath it, long after the cause of provocation had been withdrawn.
This earnestness of character--amounting to intensity--gave me an
habitual sternness of look and expression, and I found it hard to
acquire, of a sudden, that command of muscle which would permit
me to mould the stubborn lineaments, at pleasure, to suit the
moment. Not even where my heart was most deeply interested--thus
aroused--could I look the feelings of the lover, which, nevertheless,
were most truly the predominant ones within my bosom.

"Julia," I exclaimed, "I did not think to see you."

"Ah, Edward, did you wish it?" she replied in very mournful accents,
gently reproachful, as she suffered me to take her hand in mine,
and lead her back to the parlor in the basement story. I seated
her upon the sofa, and took a place at her side.

"Why should I not wish to see you, Julia? What should lead you to
fancy now that I could wish otherwise?"

"Alas!" she replied, "I know not what to think--I scarcely know
what I say. I am very miserable. What is this they tell me? Can it
be true, Edward, that you are acting against my father--that you
are trying to bring him to shame and poverty?"

I released her hand. I fixed my eyes keenly upon hers.