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178 you united. But I tremble, Julia, when I think of your temper and my own: you will conceive a gloomy look, from one never mirthful, is an insult; and you will feel every vent of passion on Fortune or on others, as a reproach to you. Then, too, you cannot enter into my nature; you cannot descend into its caverns; you cannot behold, much less can you deign to lull, the exacting and lynx-eyed jealousy that dwells there. Sweetest Julia, every breath of yours, every touch of yours, every look of yours I yearn for beyond all a mother's longing for the child that has been torn from her for years. Your head leant upon an old tree—(do you remember it near * * *)—and I went every day after seeing you to kiss it. Do you wonder that I am jealous? How can I love you as I do, and be otherwise?—my whole being is intoxicated with you!

"This then, your pride and mine—your pleasure in the admiration of others—your lightness, Julia, make me foresee an eternal and gushing source of torture to my mind.—I care not;—I care for