"It would be strictly true, notwithstanding. For though, as she says, we met years ago, she was but a child then; and, since that time, I never saw her until four or five days ago—"
"And since then, how often?" Julia again interrupted him; for, in the intensity of her anxiety, she could not wait the full answer to one question, before another suggested itself to her mind, and found voice at the instant.
"Once, Julia."
"Only once?"
"Once only, by the Gods!"
"You have not told me wherefore it was, that you never loved her!"
"Have I not told you, that I never saw her till a few days, a few hours, I might have said, ago? and does not that tell you wherefore, Julia?"
"But there is something more. There is another reason. Oh! tell me, I adjure you, by all that you hold dearest, tell me!"
"There is another reason. I told you that she was very young, and very beautiful; but, Julia, she was also very guilty!"
"Guilty!" exclaimed the fair girl, blushing fiery red, "guilty of loving you! Oh! Paullus! Paullus!" and between shame, and anger, and the repulsive shock that every pure and feminine mind experiences in hearing of a sister's frailty, she buried her face in her hands, and wept aloud.