the next day, this amiable and unfortunate young woman took leave of the family, carrying with her a barbed arrow which pierced her heart, and wrung it with sorrow, when the last adieus were pronounced between the Count and herself. She returned home, but for a long time her days were melancholy, and her nights restless.
The Count and his Lady were little less unhappy; there was nothing respectable or estimable in the Lady's character to conciliate esteem, nor any endeavours to render herself pleasing. No longer a favourite mistress to engross his hours, his reflections on the past were painful, and in prospect no less disagreeable: He grew reserved, solitary and unhappy; yet behaved with more attention and complacency to his Lady, and was extremely fond of his infant son. Nine months passed in a dull uniformity, when an accident happened that gave a new turn to his thoughts.
