at binds man to woman. Corinne was not, like
most women, easily terrified by the possible dangers of a journey; but
it was so sweet to remark the solicitude of Oswald, that she almost
wished to be frightened, to enjoy the pleasure of, hearing him cheer and
comfort her.
That which gave Lord Nelville, as will be seen in the sequel, so great
an ascendancy over the heart of his mistress, was the unexpected
contrasts which gave a peculiar charm to his manners. Everybody admired
his intellect and the gracefulness of his figure; but he must have been
particularly interesting to one, who uniting in herself by a singular
accord, constancy and mobility, took delight in impressions, at once
various and faithful. Never did he think of anything but Corinne; and
this very occupation of his mind incessantly assumed different
characters: at one time he was governed by reserve, at another he was
open and communicative: one moment he was perfectly calm, and another a
prey to the most gloomy and bitter sensations, which proved the depth of
his sentiments, but mingled anxiety with confidence and incessantly gave
birth to new emotions. Oswald, internally agitated, endeavoured to
assume an external appearance of composure, and Corinne, occupied in
conjecturing his thoughts, found in this mystery a continual interest.
One would have said, that the very defects of Oswald were only made to
set off his agreeable qualities. No man, however distinguished, in whose
character there was no contradiction, who was subject to no internal
conflict, could have captivated the imagination of Corinne. She felt a
sort of awe of Oswald, which subjected her to him. He reigned over her
soul by a good and by an evil power; by his qualities, and by the
disquietude which these qualities, badly combined, could inspire: in
short there was no security in the happiness that Lord Nelville
conferred, and perhaps the violence of Corinne's passion was owing to
this; perhaps she could only love, to such a degree, him whom she feared
to lose. A superior mind, a sensibility as ardent as it was delicate,
might become weary of everything, except that truly extraordinary man,
whose soul, constantly agitated, seemed like the sky--sometimes serene,
sometimes covered with clouds. Oswald, always true, always of profound
and impassioned feelings, was nevertheless often ready to renounce the
object of his tenderness, because a long habit of mental pain made him
believe, that only rem
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