Still the Cloud

"How manly and generous," she proceeded, "was this sort of persecution
of one so unprotected, so dependent, so placed, that she must even
be silent, and endure without speech or complaint, in the dread of
dangers which, however, would not light upon her head. Oh, brave
as generous!" she exclaimed, with a burst of tremendous delirium,
terminating in a shriek; "oh, brave as generous!--scarcely lion-like,
however, for the noble beast rushes upon his victim. He does not
prowl, and skulk, and sneak, watching, cat-like; crouching and base,
in stealth and darkness. Very noble, but mousing spirit! Beware!
Do I not know you now! Fear you not that I will show your baseness,
and declare the truth, and guide other eyes to your stealthy
practice? Beware! Do not drive me into madness!"

Thus she raved. My conscience applied these stinging words of scorn,
which seemed particularly fitted to the mean suspicious watch which
I had kept upon her. I could have no thought that they were meant
for any other ears than my own, and the crimson flush upon my
cheeks was the involuntary acknowledgment which my soul made of the
demerits of my unmanly conduct. I fancied that Julia had detected
my espionage, and that her language had this object in reference
only. But there were other words; and, passing with unexpected
transition from the language of dislike and scorn, she now
indulged in that of love--language timidly suggestive of love, as
if its utterance were restrained by bashfulness, as if it dreaded
to be heard. Then a deep sigh followed, as if from the bottom of
her heart, succeeded by convulsive sobs, at last ending in a gushing
flood of tears.