“What is that you tell me?” replied the Count d’Erfeuil, “can such an intellectual lady as you fill her head with such nonsense?  It is the advantage of us men that women think as you do—­we have thus more ascendancy over you; but your superiority must not be lost, it must be serviceable to you.”  “Serviceable to me?” said Corinne, “Ah!  I owe it much, if it has enabled me to feel more acutely all that is interesting and generous in the character of Lord Nelville.”—­“Lord Nelville is like other men,” said the Count; “he will return to his native country, he will pursue his profession; in short he will recover his reason, and you would imprudently expose your reputation by going to Naples with him.”—­“I am ignorant of the intentions of Lord Nelville,” observed Corinne, “and perhaps I should have done better to have reflected more deeply before I had let him obtain such power over my heart; but now, what signifies one more sacrifice!  Does not my life depend on his love?  I feel pleasure, on the contrary, in leaving myself no resource;—­there is none when the heart is wounded; nevertheless, the world may sometimes think the contrary, and I love to reflect that even in this respect my calamity would be complete, if Lord Nelville were to leave me!”—­“And does he know how you expose yourself on his account?” proceeded d’Erfeuil.—­“I have taken great care to conceal it from him,” answered Corinne, “and as he is not well acquainted with the customs of this country, I have a little exaggerated to him the latitude of conduct which they allow.  I must exact from you a promise, that you will never undeceive him in this respect—­I wish him to be perfectly free, he can never make me happy by any kind of sacrifice.  The sentiment which renders me happy is the flower of my life; were it once to decay, neither kindness nor delicacy could revive it.  I conjure you then, my dear Count, not to interfere with my destiny; no opinion of yours upon the affections of the heart can possibly apply to me.  Your observations are very prudent, very sensible, and extremely applicable to the situations of ordinary life; but you would innocently do me a great injury, in attempting to judge of my character in the same manner as large bodies of people are judged, for whom there are maxims ready made.  My sufferings, my enjoyments, and my feelings, are peculiar to myself, and whoever would influence my happiness must contemplate me alone, unconnected with the rest of the world.”

The self-love of Count d’Erfeuil was a little wounded by the inutility of his counsels, and the decided proof of her affection for Lord Nelville which Corinne gave him.  He knew very well that he himself was not beloved by her, he knew equally that Oswald was; but it was unpleasant to him to hear this so openly avowed.  There is always something in the favour which a man finds in a lady’s sight, that offends even his best friends.—­“I see that I can do nothing for you,” said the Count; “but should you become very unhappy you