"Will you believe me, Julia?"
"Will you be true hereafter, Paullus?"
"By all—"
"Nay! swear not by the Gods," she interrupted him; "they say the Gods laugh at the perjury of lovers! But oh! remember, Paullus, that if you were indeed untrue to Julia, she could but die!"
He caught her to his heart, and she for once resisted not; and, for the first time permitted, his lips were pressed to hers in a long, chaste, holy kiss.
"And now," he said, "my own, own Julia, I must say fare you well. My horse awaits me at your door—my troopers are half the way hence to Præneste."
"Nay!" she replied, blushing deeply, "but you will surely see Hortensia, ere you go."
"It must be, then, but for a moment," he answered. "For duty calls me; and you must not tempt me to break my new-born resolution. But say, Julia, will you tell all these things to Hortensia?"
She smiled, and laid her hand upon his mouth; but he kissed it, and drew it down by gentle force, and repeated his question,
"Will you?"