ere filled with tears; a
cruel sentiment, a painful suspicion seized upon the heart of
Oswald.--"Corinne," cried he, "Corinne, has your delicate soul nothing
to reproach itself with? If I were able to dispose of myself, if I could
offer myself to you, should I have no rival in the past? Should I have
reason to be proud of my choice? Would no cruel jealousy disturb my
happiness?"--"I am free, and I love you as I never loved man before!"
answered Corinne--"What would you have more?--Must I be condemned to an
avowal, that before I have known you I have been deceived by my
imagination as to the interest which another excited in me? Is there not
in the heart of man a divine pity for the errors which sentiment, or
rather the illusion of sentiment, may have led us to commit?" In
finishing these words a modest blush covered her face. Oswald was
startled; but remained silent. There was in Corinne's look an expression
of repentance and timidity which did not permit him to judge with
rigour--a ray from heaven seemed to descend upon, and absolve her! He
took her hand, pressed it against his heart, and knelt before her,
without uttering anything, without promising anything; but contemplated
her with a look of love which gave the utmost latitude to hope.

"Believe me," said Corinne, to Lord Nelville--"let us form no plan for
the years to come. The most happy moments are those which a bountiful
chance gives us. Is it here then, is it in the midst of the tombs that
we should think of future days?"--"No," cried Lord Nelville, "I can
think of no future day that would be likely to part us! these four days
of absence have taught me too well that I now no longer exist but in
you!"--Corinne made no reply to these sweet expressions; but she
treasured them religiously in her heart; she was always fearful that in
prolonging the conversation upon that subject most interesting to her,
she might draw from Oswald a declaration of his future intentions,
before a longer acquaintance might render separation impossible. She
often, even designedly, turned his attention towards external
objects--like that Sultana in the Arabian Tales, who sought by a
thousand different recitals to awaken the interest of him she loved, in
order to postpone the decision of her fate till her charms and her wit
had completed their conquest.

FOOTNOTE:

[17]
"Viximus insignes inter utramque facem."
PROPERTIUS.

Chapter