He was
the life and soul of the convivial board, and prince of good fellows. A
woman must be happy with such a handsome good-natured husband, and the
Captain hoped that his dear Julee would be the wife of his favorite.
Hearts understood hearts better. Godfrey Hurdlestone was not the man who
could make Juliet Whitmore happy. There existed no sympathy between
them. The one was all soul, the other a mere animal in the fullest sense
of the word; living but for animal enjoyment, and unable to comprehend
the refined taste and exquisite sensibilities that belong to higher
natures. Yet he loved music, had a fine ear and a fine voice, and
exercised both with considerable skill. Here Juliet met him on equal
terms; they played and sang together, and whilst so employed, and only
drinking in sweet sounds, rendered doubly delicious when accompanied by
harmonious words, Juliet forgot the something, she could not tell what,
that made her feel such a deep aversion to the handsome musician.
"If my flute could but speak the language of my heart, how quickly, Miss
Whitmore, would it breathe into your ear the tender tale which the
musician wants courage to declare!"
"Ah," returned Juliet quickly, "such notes would only produce discord.
Perfect harmony must exist before we can form a union of sweet sounds.
Similarity of mind can alone produce reciprocity of affection.
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