young
man still protested against the use of any such language, as
addressed to him. At length, overcome by the entreaties of the
Ambassador, he confessed, weeping, that he was the son of the
Count of Moncade, but declared that nothing should induce him
to return to his father, if he must abandon a woman he adored.
The young woman burst into tears; and threw herself at the feet
of the Ambassador, telling him that she would not be the cause
of the ruin of the young Count; and that generosity, or rather,
love, would enable her to disregard her own happiness, and, for
his sake, to separate herself from him. The Ambassador admired her
noble disinterestedness. The young man, on the contrary, received
her declaration with the most desperate grief. He reproached his
mistress, and declared that he would never abandon so estimable
a creature, nor suffer the sublime generosity of her heart to be
turned against herself. The Ambassador told him that the Count
of Moncade was far from wishing to render her miserable, and
that he was commissioned to provide her with a sum sufficient
to enable her to return into Spain, or to live where she liked.
Her noble sentiments, and genuine tenderness, he said, inspired
him with the greatest interest for her, and would induce him
to go to the utmost limits of his powers, in the sum he was to
give her; that he, therefore, promised her ten thousand florins,
that is to say, about twelve hundred louis, which would be given
her the moment she surrendered the promise of marriage she had
received, and the Count of Moncade took up his abode in the
Ambassador's house, and promised to return to Spain. The young
woman seemed perfectly indifferent to the sum proposed, and wholly
absorbed in her lover, and in the grief of leaving him. She seemed
insensible to everything but the cruel sacrifice which her reason,
and her love itself, demanded. At length, drawing from a little
portfolio the promise of marriage, signed by the Count, 'I know
his heart too well,' said she, 'to need it.' Then she kissed it
again and again, with a sort of transport, and delivered it to
the Ambassador, who stood by, astonished at the grandeur of soul
he witnessed. He promised her that he would never cease to take
the liveliest interest in her fate, and assured the Count of his
father's forgiveness. 'He will receive with open arms,' said he,
'the prodigal son, returning to the bosom of his distressed family;
the heart of a father is