d him with the sweetest emotion. Opposite this portrait
was a charming picture, representing the Blessed Virgin--and before this
picture was the oratory of Corinne. This singular mixture of love and
religion is common to the greater part of Italian women, attended with
circumstances more extraordinary than in the apartment of Corinne; for
free and unrestrained as was her life, the remembrance of Oswald was
united in her mind with the purest hopes and purest sentiments; but to
place thus the resemblance of a lover opposite an emblem of divinity,
and to prepare for a retreat to a convent by consecrating a week to
paint that resemblance, was a trait that characterised Italian women in
general rather than Corinne in particular. Their kind of devotion
supposes more imagination and sensibility than seriousness of mind and
seventy of principles;--nothing could be more contrary to Oswald's
religious ideas; yet how could he find fault with Corinne, at the very
moment when he received so affecting a proof of her love?

He minutely surveyed this chamber, which he now entered for the first
time: at the head of Corinne's bed he saw the portrait of an elderly
man, whose physiognomy was not Italian; two bracelets were hanging near
this portrait, one formed of dark and light hair twisted together; the
other was of the most lovely flaxen, and what appeared a most remarkable
effect of chance, perfectly resembled that of Lucilia Edgermond, which
he had observed very attentively three years ago on account of its
extreme beauty. Oswald contemplated these bracelets without uttering a
word, for to interrogate Theresa he felt to be unworthy of him. But
Theresa, fancying she guessed Oswald's thoughts, and wishing to remove
from his mind every jealous suspicion, hastened to inform him that
during eleven years that she had waited on Corinne, her mistress had
always worn these bracelets, and that she knew they were composed of the
hair of her father and mother, and that of her sister. "You have been
eleven years with Corinne," said Lord Nelville; "you know then--"
blushing, he suddenly checked himself, ashamed of the question he was
about to put, and quitted the house immediately, to avoid saying another
word.

In going away, he turned about several times to behold the windows of
Corinne, and when he had lost sight of her habitation, he felt a sadness
now new to him--that which springs from solitude. In the evening, he
sought to dissipate his mel