Raymond by John Lang

Julia Wyndham, whose parents had died when she was in her infancy, resided with her grandmother, the widow of a physician, in a small village, a few miles distant from Cambridge, where Raymond had first seen her. The old lady and her granddaughter lived in great seclusion--for their means were somewhat straitened--associating only with two or three intimate friends at Kimbolton, and at Huntingdon, with one of whom Julia was now staying on a short visit. In the more modern acceptation of the term, Miss Wyndham would not have been considered accomplished, for her acquaintance with music was far from scientific; she knew nothing of Italian; and, as a dancer, would hardly--notwithstanding the natural elegance of her movements--have passed muster with so critical a judge of the art as the Huntingdon master of the ceremonies. But, though not highly accomplished, she was a very delightful girl; for she sang and played with infinite feeling, had a keen sense of humour, tempered by the strictest feminine delicacy; was of a lively, affectionate nature, and as ignorant of the world as those usually are whose youth has passed in retirement.

Henry, as may be surmised, was not long in making discovery of all these attractive qualities; and, when he visited Julia next day, previous to his return with Jenkins to Cambridge, she confirmed, by her artlessness and vivacity, the favourable impression she had made on him the night before. At the moment of his entrance, she was seated with Mrs Lovat--the lady at whose house she was staying--in the drawing-room, copying a print of one of Murillo's Spanish shepherd boys. After the usual introductory commonplaces, the conversation ran upon the scenery of the neighbourhood, which Raymond justly pronounced to be the most insipid he had ever seen.