like a statue, and another less significant one at myself, snatched with vehemence the myrtle sprig from my friend's hand, averting her face, and said, in a trembling accent, "I thank you, dear Count."
It is a kind of miracle that I did not lose the use of my senses on the spot. It rather seemed as if I had received a thousand eyes more, to see more plainly what now ensued. The Count was almost frantic with rapture, forgetting every thing, the world and myself, and straining the trembling girl to his bosom. At first, she only suffered his caresses and kisses, but soon returned them with equal fervour. Tender looks, and voluptuous sighs, were mutually exchanged, and the glowing fire of love burned on their crimsoned lips. They were infolded in tender embraces, while I continued to kneel before them in a kind of senseless stupor.
The Count observed, at length, my forlorn situation, and raised me with a grateful look. "My Caroline," said heto
