"I will stake heart, life, and soul, on the impossibility.”
"You speak earnestly," replied the Comtesse. "We all know the worth of a lady's negative. The more forcible the resolution, the more chance there is of its being broken."
"Not with me. Under no possible circumstances could I love the Duke of Buckingham. He is too unreal—he affects too much to suit what he supposes is your taste. Life is to him a scène de comédie: he aims at acting his many parts brilliantly; but, in our admiration for the actor, we lose all interest in the individual."
"The truth is, or at least such I suspect it to be, that you have no heart, Francesca, to give. I remember a certain young English cavalier, whom we usually found loitering beside the ruined temple in the pine-wood. You had some lover's quarrel; but you are disposed to Christian charity, are you not? Nay, nay—don't blush, nor turn away that pretty head! I shall be a most indulgent confessor. What! tears, Francesca? You love him still?"
"I do," said Francesca, "more dearly, more deeply than you can dream!" and again she hid her face in her hands. But this was one of those subjects on which, speak but once, give but one
