d been occasioned
more from the sudden relief he experienced at running now no risks for
having murdered, than for any better feeling towards his brother, or any
humbler notions of himself. Nay, a strong reaction occurred in his ideas
the moment he had seen his brother's writing; and when he fainted, he
fainted from the struggle in his mind of manifold exciting causes, such
as these:--hatred, jealousy, what he called love, though a lower name
befitted it, and vexation that his brother was--not dead. Oh mother,
mother! if your poor weak head had but been wise enough to read that
heart, would you still have loved it as you do? Alas--it is a deep
lesson in human nature this--she would! for Mrs. General Tracy was one
of those obstinate, yet superficial characters, whom no reason can
convince that they are wrong, no power can oblige to confess themselves
mistaken. She rejoiced to hear him called "her very image;" and
predominant vanity in the large coquette extended to herself at
second-hand; self was her idol substance, and its delightful shadow was
this mother's son.

The moment Mrs. Tracy left the room, Julian perceived his opportunity:
Charles, detested rival, far away at sea; the guardian gone to London;
Emily in an unusual flow of affability and kindness, and he--alone with
her. Rashly did he bask his soul in her delicious beauty, deliberately
drinking deep of that intoxicating draught. Giving the rein to passion,
he suffered that tumultuous steed to hurry him whither it would, in mad
unbridled course. He sat so long silently gazing at her with the
lack-lustre eyes of low and dull desire, that Emily, quite thrown off
her guard by that amiable fainting for his brother, addressed him in her
innocent kind-heartedness,

"Are you not recovered yet, dear Julian?"

The effect was instantaneous: scarcely crediting his ears that heard her
call him "dear," his eyes, that saw her winning smile upon him, he
started from his chair, and trembling with agitation, flung himself at
her feet, to Emily's unqualified astonishment.

"Why, Julian, what's the matter?--unhand me, sir! let go!" (for he had
got hold of her wrist.)

The passionate youth seized her hand--that one with Charles's ring upon
it--and would have kissed it wildly with polluting lips, had she not
shrieked suddenly "Help! help!"

Instantly his other hand was roughly dashed upon her mouth--so roughly
that it almost knocked her backwards--and the blood flowed from he