"Ah! you are very vain of me, I know--very!"
"Proud, fond--not vain!"
"You deceive yourself still, I suspect, even with your distinctions.
But you must forego the pleasure of displaying my 'stern beauties,'
as your particular possession, at the gallery. You must content yourself
with others not so sterm, though perhaps not less beautiful, and
certainly more amiable. Edgerton will be your sufficient chaperon."
"Yes, but I do not wish to be troubling Mr. Edgerton so frequently;
and, indeed, I would rather forego the pleasure of seeing the
pictures altogether, than trespass in this way upon his attention
and leisure."
"Indeed, but I am very sure you do not trespass upon either. He
is an idle, good fellow, relishes anything better than business,
and you know has such a passion for painting and pictures that its
indulgence seems to justify anything to his mind. He will forget
everything in their pursuit."
All this was said with a studious indifference of manner. I was
singularly successful in concealing the expression of that agony
which was gnawing all the while upon my heart. I could smile, too,
while I was speaking--while I was suffering! Look calmly into her
face and smile, with a composure, a strength, the very consciousness
of which was a source of terrible overthrow to me at last. I was
surprised to perceive an air of chagrin upon Julia's countenance,
which was certainly unstudied. She was one of those who do not
well conceal or cloak their real sentiments. The faculty of doing
so is usually much more strongly possessed by women than by men--much
more easily commanded--but SHE had little of it. Why should she
wear this expression of disappointment--chagrin! Was she really
anxious that I should attend her? I began to think so--began to
relent, and think of promising that I would go with her, when she
somewhat abruptly laid her hand upon my arm.
"Edward, you leave me too frequently. You stay from me too long,
particularly at evening. Do not forget, dear husband, how few female
friends I have; how few friends of any sort--how small is my social
circle. Besides, it is expected of all young people, newly married,
that they will be frequently together; and when it is seen that
they are often separate--that the wife goes abroad alone, or goes
in the company of persons not of the family, it begets a suspicion
that all is not well--that there is no peace, no love, in the family
so divided. Do not think, Edward, that I mean this reproachfully--that
I mean complaint--that I apprehend the loss of your love: oh no!
I dread too greatly any such loss to venture upon its suspicion
lightly, but I would guard against the conjectures of others--"
"So, then, it is not that you really wish my company. It is be-cause
you would simply maintain appearances."