"And to that cousin you have confided the letter?" interrupted the Colonel, somewhat eagerly.
"No, not my cousin," said Julia, "but to one I conceived better suited to the trust. You must know that my father, with his usual hospitality, insisted on Major Montgomerie and his niece, the parties in question, taking up their abode with us during the short time they remained."
"And to Miss Montgomerie you gave your letter," hurriedly exclaimed the Colonel, starting to his feet, and exhibiting a countenance of extreme paleness."
"Good heaven, Ernest! what is the matter? Surely you do not think me guilty of imprudence in this affair. I was anxious to write to you,—I imagined you would be glad to hear from me, and thought that the niece of one of your officers would be the most suitable medium of communication. I therefore confessed to her my secret, and requested her to take charge the letter."
"Oh, Julia, you have been indeed imprudent. But what said she—how looked she when you confided to her our secret?"
"She made no other remark than to ask how long our attachment had existed, adding that she had once known something of you herself; and her look and voice were calm, and her cheek underwent no variation from the settled paleness observable there since her arrival."
"And in what manner did she receive her trust?" again eagerly demanded the Colonel.
"With a solemn assurance that it should be delivered to you with her own hand—then, and then only, did a faint smile animate her still but beautiful features. Yet why all these questions, Ernest? Or can it really be? Tell me," and the voice of the young girl became imperative, "has Miss Montgomerie any claim upon your hand—she admitted to have known you?"
"On my honor, none;" impressively returned the Colonel.
"Oh, what a weight you have removed from my heart, Ernest, but wherefore your alarm, and wherein consists my imprudence?"