his way, ever to meet with a party of ladies, all of them so many chaste Venuses and beauteous Minervas, never was mortal so unexpectedly blessed in this way as was Count Ulric von Klettenberg, when he found himself thus transported, from an uncomfortable, supperless night’s lodging under a tree, in the depths of an unknown wood, to a mansion which seemed the abode of the loves and the graces. Small as was his faith in magic, yet the unexpected apparition of the old woman, amid the shades of night, in the solitude of the forest, the caution she had given him, and her then introducing him to this magnificent place, so curiously inhabited, had made such an impression upon him, that he involuntarily anticipated something or other supernatural. It was, therefore, with some degree of mistrust that he presented himself to the ladies in the drawing-room; but he very soon became satisfied that neither Signora Dottorena nor her daughter, nor their three companions, had any other witchcraft about them than what is conferred by superior personal charms, combined with superior intellect. He speedily grew ashamed of his absurd suspicions, and in their place conceived sentiments of grateful esteem for the amiable group who had given him so kind, so generous a reception. As to Love, who seemed the divinity of this temple, he had now no further power over Ulric, who comparing the glowing beauties of
