And what of Julia Clifford? I have said but little of her for some
time past, but she has not been forgotten. Far from it. She was
still sufficiently the attraction that drew me to the dwelling of
my selfish uncle. In the three years that I had been at the mercantile
establishment, her progress, in mind and person, had been equally
ravishing and rapid. She was no more the child, but the blooming
girl--the delicate blossom swelling to the bud--the bud bursting into
the flower--but the bloom, and the beauty, and the innocence--the
rich tenderness, and the dewy sweet, still remained the same through
all the stages of her progress from the infant to the woman. Wealth,
and the arrogant example of those about her, had failed to change
the naturally true and pure simplicity of her character. She was
not to be beguiled by the one, nor misguided by the other, from the
exquisite heart which was still worthy of Eden. When I was admitted
to the bar at twenty-one, she was sixteen--the age in our southern
country when a maiden looks her loveliest. But I had scarcely felt
the changes in the last three years which had been going on in
her. I beheld beauties added to beauties, charms to charms; and she
seemed every day to be the possessor of fresh graces newly dropped
from heaven; but there was no change. Increased perfection does
not imply change, nor does it suffer it.
It was my custom, as the condescending wish of my uncle expressed,
that I should take my Sunday dinner with his family. I complied
with this request, and it was no hard matter to do so. But it was
a sense of delight, not of duty, that made me comply; and, but
for Julia, I feel certain that I should never have darkened the
doors, which opened to admit me only through a sense of duty. But
the attraction--scarcely known to myself--drew me with singular
punctuality; and I associated the privilege which had been accorded
me with another. I escorted the ladies to church; sometimes, too,
when the business of my employers permitted, I spent an evening
during the week with the family; and beholding Julia I was not
over-anxious to perceive the indifference with which I was treated
by all others.
But let me retrace my steps. I subdued my choler so far as to go,
with a tolerable appearance of calmness if not humility, to the
interview which my uncle had been pleased to solicit. I need not
repeat in detail what passed between us. It amounted simply to
a supercilious offer, on his part, of lodging and board, until I
should be sufficiently independent to open the oyster for myself.
I thanked him with respect and civility, but, to his surprise,
declined to accept his offer.