rful, amiable, and handsome, and the pride of his father, the
persevering man who had partly restored the splendour of his ancestors.
My playmate grew up to be, not merely the delight of his father, but of
all around. He was manly, witty, and engaging, an accomplished dancer,
and expert horseman, and in fencing, had not his equal. After being
presented at court, he soon gained the prince's favour, by his natural
vivacity, and in a few years was raised to the office of counsellor.
Few men on earth had fairer prospects of a happy life. All mothers and
aunts in the neighbourhood saw, and hoped to find in him, the future
husband of their daughters and nieces, and at the assemblies in the
capital he was the adored and chosen hero of the ladies, as he was the
object of envy and persecution among the young fashionables. No one
could conceive why he so long deferred his choice, and, for a long
time, people would not credit the rumours that were circulated, that he
had formed an engagement with the young princess. It was confidently
whispered that the lovers waited only for some favourable chance, or
occurrence, to acknowledge publicly their mutual affection and wishes.
However, nothing of the kind happened, and years passed, and with them
faded the rumours, and various interpretations of sage politicians.

Suddenly, when the affair seemed forgotten, my youthful friend was
banished the court and capital in disgrace. All his former friends
forsook him, and what was still worse, an intrigue countenanced by the
government, involved him in a dangerous lawsuit, which threatened the
loss of his fortune. Thus then this courted, admired, and universally
caressed Francis, saw himself in the very worst position, and was
obliged to confess that his career was closed, and that all his
splendid prospects were darkened for ever.

About this time I saw him again; he bore his misfortune manfully. He
was still as youthful and handsome as ever, and the serenity of his
temper had suffered but little. We were travelling in this
neighbourhood, and the Klausenburg having gone to ruin, he built a
pleasant house not far distant, on the slope of a hill, from whence he
enjoyed a beautiful prospect.

He avoided speaking of former circumstances, but one evening, he was
deeply affected by a letter announcing the decease of the young
princess, who had died of a broken heart, or, as was afterwards said,
had voluntarily sought death, because she cou