Page:Shepherdess of the Alps (1).pdf/9

9 and mixing her tears with theirs, returned a thousand thanks to their noble guests with a sweetness that increased her charms, I cannot, said she aeceptaccept [sic] of your favour; heaven has marked my destined lot, and I submit to it; but I shall always with the most grateful heart, aeknowledgcacknowledge [sic] your goodness, and the name of Fonrose will never be absent from my mcmorymemory [sic]. The only thing that I request of you is, to bury this adventure in eternal silenccsilence [sic], and never to reveal the fate of an unknown person, who is determined to live and die in oblivion. The Count and Countess redoubled their solicitations, but all in vain—she was immoveable The travellers parted from their charming shepherdess in retirement.

During their journey, their conversation was taken up with this strange adventure, which appcaredappeared [sic] to them as a romance. They arrived at Turin, their imagination full of it, and you may bcbe [sic] sure thcirtheir [sic] desired silence could not be obscrvedobserved [sic]. The charms and virtues of this unknown shepherdess was an inexhaustable source of reflection and conjecture. Young Fonrose, their only son, was often prcsentpresent [sic] at their conversation, and never lctlet [sic] a single circumstaneccircumstance [sic] escape his mcmorymemory [sic]. HcHe [sic] was of that age when imagination is most lively, and the heart most susceptible of receiving tender impressions; but he was of the character of those who keep the feelings of their sensibility within thcmsclvesthemselves [sic], and which are so much more violently agitated when they burst from their confinement, as they havchave [sic] never becnbeen [sic] wakened by any dissipation. All the wonders he heard related of thcthe [sic] valley of Savoy, raised in his soul the most