austed. The sanctuary was full of blood and tears, but
the desires of the priest and victim still cried for more. We had at last
to make an effort and part. Eleanore had seized the opportunity of our
sleeping for a few moments, and had softly risen and left us alone. We
felt grateful to her, and agreed that she must either be very insensitive
or have suffered torments in listening to our voluptuous combats. I left
Clementine to her ablutions, of which she stood in great need, while I
went to my room to make my toilette.

When we appeared at the breakfast, table we looked as if we had been on
the rack, and Clementine's eyes betrayed her feelings, but our grief was
respected. I could not be gay in my usual manner, but no one asked me the
reason. I promised to write to them, and come and see them again the
following year. I did write to them, but I left off doing so at London,
because the misfortunes I experienced there made me lose all hope of
seeing them again. I never did see any of them again, but I have never
forgotten Clementine.

Six years later, when I came back from Spain, I heard to my great delight
that she was living happily with Count N----, whom she had married three
years after my departure. She had two sons, the younger, who must now be
twenty-seven, is in the Austrian army. How delighted I should be to see
him! When I heard of Clementine's happiness, it was, as I have said, on
my return from Spain, and my fortunes were at a low ebb. I went to see
what I could do at Leghorn, and as I went through Lombardy I passed four
miles from the estate where she and her husband resided, but I had not
the courage to go and see her; perhaps I was right. But I must return to
the thread of my story.

I felt grateful to Eleanore for her kindness to us, and I had resolved to
leave her some memorial of me. I took her apart for a moment, and drawing
a fine cameo, representing the god of Silence, off my finger, I placed it
on hers, and then rejoined the company, without giving her an opportunity
to thank me.

The carriage was ready to take me away, and everyone was waiting to see
me off, but my eyes filled with tears. I sought for Clementine in vain;
she had vanished. I pretended to have forgotten something in my room, and
going to my Hebe's chamber I found her in a terrible state, choking with
sobs. I pressed her to my breast, and mingled my tears with hers; and
then laying her gently in her bed, and snatching a last kiss f