To know him was to love him; it was more, it was to revere him. There was something ennobling in his intercourse. You felt that all he did and said sprang from the purest truth. He was utterly unaffected, and won your confidence by the simple truthfulness of his whole being. There was perhaps as little of what is supposed to captivate women in his person and manner as in any man I ever knew; but, at the same time, I never knew a man so calculated to make a wife adore him. In a word—he could not flirt, but he could love.
The reader will be at no loss to discover the reason of certain doubts and hesitations on his part respecting Rose, with whom he was greatly charmed, and of whom he was also greatly afraid. The very vivacity which allured, alarmed him. She was so bright, so brilliant, that he was afraid to trust his heart in her keeping, lest she should be as giddy as she was gay; and, above all, lest she should scorn the mediocrity of such a man as he knew himself to be. His first impulse was always to seek her society, to sun himself in her eyes, to let his soul hold unrestrained communion with hers; but, when he came to reflect on the delicious hours he had spent by her side, he trembled lest they should be only luring him into an abyss from which there would be no escape.
Early in life he had suffered bitterly from such a deception. He fell in love with a beautiful and lively cousin of his, who, perhaps from coquetry, perhaps from thoughtlessness, certainly exhibited such signs of returning his affection, that he one day ventured to overcome his timidity, and declared his passion. She only laughed at him; and that very evening he heard her answer her mother's remonstrances on the giddiness of her conduct towards him by saying, "But, dear mama, who could have supposed that he was serious; the idea of a woman marrying him."
"He is an excellent creature," said the mother.
"Perhaps so, but you must confess he is very ugly."
Julius heard no more; it was a girl of sixteen in all her thoughtlessness who spoke, but those words were never effaced from his memory.
The truth is, Rose was as saucy as youth, beauty, and uncontrollable spirits could make her, and the general impression she made on men was, that of being too flirty and giddy for love.
Julius was fishing that day with no sport but in the chase of his own fantastic thoughts; which every philosophic fisherman must admit is part of the great pleasure in throwing out the line. People wonder what amusement can be found in fishing, and Dr. Johnson's definition is thought triumphant; but if they will allow one of the most unskilful anglers that ever handled a rod to answer, I would say, that when you have good sport, it is a pleasant excitement, and when you catch nothing, it is a most dulcet mode of meditating. You sit in the boat or stand on the bank: the river runs gently and equably before you; the float wanders with it; and the current of your thoughts is undisturbed.
No sport did Julius have that day; not a single "run;" but as a compensation he was joined by Rose herself, who had been to visit Mrs. Fletcher, the schoolmistress, to encourage the children.
"How is it," said Rose, "Mr. Ashley is not with you? Does he not indulge in this gentle sport? or is he too tender-hearted? for it is monstrously cruel you know!"