CHAPTER XII.
EXIT JULIAN.
JULIAN happened to be standing nearest to Mercy. He was the first
at her side when she fell.
In the cry of alarm which burst from him, as he raised her for a
moment in his arms, in the expression of his eyes when he looked
at her death-like face, there escaped the plain--too
plain--confession of the interest which he felt in her, of the
admiration which she had aroused in him. Horace detected it.
There was the quick suspicion of jealousy in the movement by
which he joined Julian; there was the ready resentment of
jealousy in the tone in which he pronounced the words, "Leave her
to me." Julian resigned her in silence. A faint flush appeared on
his pale face as he drew back while Horace carried her to the
sofa. His eyes sunk to the ground; he seemed to be meditating
self-reproachfully on the tone in which his friend had spoken to
him. After having been the first to take an active part in
meeting the calamity that had happened, he was now, to all
appearance, insensible to everything that was passing in the
room.
A touch on his shoulder roused him.
He turned and looked round. The woman who had done the
mischief--the stranger in the poor black garments--was standing
behind him.
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