Love feels delightful remorse at its
tender omissions; accuses, reproaches itself, and feels no rest till
they have been repaired. They are gems fallen from the heart or the
lips of the loved one, which cause the lover's thoughts to travel back
over the past, to gather them up, and to increase the treasure of his
feelings. Julie, when she awoke, received my letter, which made it
appear to her as though the conversation of the preceding evening had
not been interrupted, but had been kept up in whispered tones during
her sleep. I always received her answer before noon.
My heart being thus appeased, after the agitation of the night, my next
thought was to calm the impatience for the evening's interview, which
began to take possession of me. I strove not to divert my heart from
its one thought, but to interest my eyes and mind, and had laid down as
a law to myself to spend several hours in reading and study, to occupy
the interval between the time when I left Julie till we met again. I
wished to improve myself not for others, but for her,--in order that he
whom she loved should not disgrace her preference; and that those
superior men who composed her society, and who sometimes saw me in her
drawing-room standing at a corner of the fireplace, like a statue of
contemplation, should discover in me, if by chance they spoke to me, a
soul, an intelligence, a hope, or a promise, beneath my timid and
silent appearance.
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