"If I had been acting a part—even of misanthropy—I should have enjoyed myself unhappily ... It is your l'été."
She advanced, and the conversation was again interrupted. Nothing more was said during the rest of the quadrille; both were absorbed in their own thoughts.
He led her to a seat, and took another beside her. After a pause of some moments, she said,—
"So you were unhappy in Italy?"
He looked earnestly into her eyes as he answered,—
"Does that surprise you? Were you not already aware of it? Had I not cause?"
She blushed deeply, as she said,—
"No; you had .... no cause .... if you had stayed in England .... you might have got over it."
His lower jaw fell as she concluded this phrase. She felt herself on the eve of a declaration, and by a strong effort turned it off in that way.
At this moment a partner came to carry her off for a waltz, and Julius was left to his own reflections. He reproached himself for having so far betrayed his feelings; but in truth they had been wrung from him, as from her, by the irresistible fascination of the moment.