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 language of his mien was indeed now and then interrupted by an indescribable perplexity; however, the goodness of his heart continued to prevail in every feature of his benevolent countenance. His dark eyes, flashing with a faint fire, spoke powerfully to the heart; and the pale enamel of his lips resembled a rose that first begins to blush.

Caroline was entirely absorpt in the contemplation of his affecting features; her face was the mirror of his, and repeated every mien of her melancholy neighbour by its movements. As soon as the Count perceived me by his side, he endeavoured to involve me in a conversation with Caroline, who just was starting up, exclaiming, "Good Heaven! I have forgot the Marquis, who waits for me on the balcony!" She was rejoiced to see that I had joined the company, and drew her chair closer to the Count.

The latter began, from that moment, to be entirely absent, replying little, or