Count and myself, her cheerfulness soon returned with additional lustre.
This charming change seemed, however, not to have the least effect on the Count. He continued to be sad and gloomy, however attentive and obliging she was to him. She was indefatigable in her exertions to rouse him from his melancholy stupor, displaying her wit and good humour in the most advantageous light; but nothing would succeed. The company was enchanted with her lively sallies and acute remarks; the Count only was dejected and absorpt in gloomy reveries. He had formed his plan, and nothing could tempt him to give up his resolution. His pertinacy was so firm, that neither Heaven nor Hell would have been able to draw him only a hair's breadth from his course.
At length she grew tired of that frigidity, and addressed herself to me, to punish him for his sullen reserve, thinking, perhaps, that jealousy would effect whatlove
