her to moderate hers; to consider the tranquillity he should enjoy from having her under such protection. He told her in a few months, if it pleased heaven, they would again meet, as the Countess then intended to return to Paris, and had promised in her way to it to make some stay at his cottage.
Madeline, comforted by those words, wiped away her tears, and said, she would try to compose herself. Clermont then took a small picture, plainly set, from his pocket; "I know (said he), your tenderness will be gratified by this present; accept therefore, my dear Madeline (putting it into her hand) the copy of what your father was when his cheek was unfaded by age or care, his spirit unbroken by disappointment."
Madeline had never before seen this picture, she received it with transport; though from its being done at a very early period, she could now scarcely trace any resemblance in it to her father.
