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CHAP. IV.
Ah where is now each image gay
The hand of Fairy fancy wove,
The painted spring, elizium gay
The babbling rill, the cultur'd grove.
Her night was restless and unhappy.
"Ah, (sighed she) how differently did I imagine it would have ended." Pale, trembling, dejected, the very reverse of what she had been the preceding morning, she descended to the breakfast parlour, where her melancholy was, if possible, increased by observing the Countess's, who either from sympathy for her, or from a return of her secret uneasiness, or perhaps from a mixture of both, appeared languid and dejected. She tried, however, to appear cheerful but the
