ese attacks, and remained calm and unmoved. When she
gave him her hand to kiss at parting, he would merely raise it to his
lips, and leave her with a cold 'adieu.'

'He is cold--senseless--unworthy of my regard; I will see him no more,'
said Julia to herself. Yet when the image of the handsome Italian arose
before her, so calmly noble, so proudly composed, her resolution forsook
her, and she felt that he held her, heart and soul, under some strange
and magical fascination.

'Yes, I love him,' she cried, bursting into a passionate flood of
tears--'devotedly, madly love him. Oh, why am I the suppliant slave of
this cold stranger? why cannot I entice him to my arms? Distraction: my
most consummate art fails to kindle in his icy breast a single spark of
the raging fire that is consuming me!'

It may be proper to mention that Mr. Hedge knew nothing of the Italian's
visits to his wife; for Julia received him in a private parlor of her
own, and there was no danger of interruption. The old gentleman passed
most of his evenings in his library; and having implicit faith in the
integrity of his wife, he allowed her to spend her evenings as she
chose.

One evening Signor Montoni visited Julia rather earlier than usual; and
she resolved that evening to make a desperate effort to conquer him,
even if obliged to make known her wishes in words.

During the evening she exerted herself, as usual, to captivate him, and
bring him to her feet. She sang--she played--she liberally displayed the
graces of her person, and the charms of her accomplished mind, but still
in vain.--There he sat, with folded arms, in deep abstraction, gazing at
the elaborate figures on the gorgeous carpet.

At nine o'clock, Montoni arose, and took the lady's hand to bid her
adieu. She gently detained him, and drew him towards her upon the sofa.

'Listen to me, Montoni;' said she, gazing into his eyes with an
expression of deep fondness--'listen to me, and I will speak calmly if I
can, though my heart is beating in wild tumult. Call me unwomanly, bold,
wanton if you will, for making this declaration--_but I love you!_--God
only knows how ardently, how passionately. The first moment I saw you,
your image impressed itself indelibly upon my heart; in person, you were
my _beau ideal_ of manhood--and in mind I found you all that I could
wish. I have sought to make you my lover--for my husband is old and
impotent, and my passions are strong. Look at me, Montoni; am