"Yes, we will renew the old habits, for I suppose that business
there will be less pressing, less exacting, than I have found it
here. We will take our long walks, Julia, and make up for lost time
in new sketches. You have thought me a truant, Julia--neglectful
hitherto! Have you not?"
"Ah, Edward!"--Her eyes filled with tears, but a smile, like rainbow,
made them bright.
"Say, did you not?"
"Do not be angry with me if I confess I thought you very much
altered in some respects. I was fearful I had vexed you."
"You shall have no more reason to fear. We shall be the babes
in the wood together. I am sure we shall be quite happy, left to
ourselves. No doubts, no fears--nothing but love. And you are really
willing to go?"
"Willing! I wish it! I can get ready in a day."
"You have but a week. But, have you no reluctance? Is there nothing
that you regret to leave? Speak freely, Julia. Your mother, your
friends--would you not prefer to remain with them?"
She placed her hands on my shoulders, laid her head close to my bosom
and murmured--how softly, how sweetly--in the touching language of
the Scripture damsel.
"Entreat me not to leave thee, or to refrain from following after
thee; for whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest,
I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God!"
I folded her with tremulous but deep joy in my embrace; and in that
sweet moment of peace, I wondered that I ever should have questioned
the faith of such a woman.