Brave, too, Anna had called him. This she
must have learnt from acts of desperate courage
that he had performed in the war which had so
recently terminated; or perhaps he might have even
distinguished himself in the presence of Anna, by
some exploit of cool and determined daring. Her
heart burned to know all the particulars, but how
was she to inquire them. Anna, dear, indiscreet girl,
had already shown her letters, and her delicacy
shrunk from the exposure of her curiosity to its
object. After a multitude of expedients had been
adopted and rejected as impracticable, Julia
resorted to the course of committing her inquiries
to paper, most solemnly enjoining her friend never
to expose her weakness to Mr. Stanley. This,
thought Julia, she never could do; it would be
unjust to me, and indelicate in her. So Julia wrote
as follows, first seeking her own apartment, and
carefully locking the door, that she might devote
her whole attention to friendship, and her letter.
"Dearest Anna,
"Your kind letter reach'd me after many an anxious
hour spent in expectation, and repays me ten-fold
for all my uneasiness. Surely, Anna, there is no one
that can write half so agreeably as yourself. I know
there must be a long--long--epistle for me on the
road, containing those descriptions and incidents
you promised to favour me with: how I long to read
them, and to show them to my aunt Margaret, who,
I believe, does not suspect you to be capable of
doing that which I know, or rather feel, you can.
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