Very fine and brilliant music preceded the arrival of the triumphal procession.  Any event, whatever it may be, which is announced by music, always produces emotion.  A great number of Roman Lords, and some foreigners, preceded the car of Corinne. “That is the train of her admirers!” said a Roman. “Yes,” replied the other, “she receives the incense of everybody; but she grants nobody a decided preference:  she is rich and independent; it is even believed, and certainly her appearance bespeaks it, that she is a woman of illustrious birth who desires to remain unknown.” “Be it as it may,” replied a third, “she is a goddess wrapt in a cloud.”  Oswald looked at the man who spoke thus, and every thing about him indicated that he belonged to the most obscure rank in society; but in the south people so naturally make use of poetical expressions, that one would say they were inhaled with the air and inspired by the sun.

At length way was made through the crowd for the four white horses that drew the car of Corinne.  Corinne was seated in this car which was constructed upon an antique model, and young girls, dressed in white, walked on each side of her.  Wherever she passed an abundance of perfumes was thrown into the air; the windows, decorated with flowers and scarlet tapestry, were crowded with spectators; every body cried, “Long live Corinne!” “Long live Genius and Beauty!” The emotion was general but Lord Nelville did not yet share it, and though he had observed in his own mind that in order to judge of such a ceremony we must lay aside the reserve of the English and the pleasantry of the French, he did not share heartily in the fete till at last he beheld Corinne.

[Illustration:  Corinne at the Capitol.]

She was dressed like the Sybil of Domenichino; an Indian shawl twisted about her head, and her hair of the finest jet black, entwined with this shawl; her dress was white, with blue drapery from her bosom downwards, and her costume was very picturesque, at the same time without departing so much from established modes as to savour of affectation.  Her attitude on the car was noble and modest:  it was easily perceived that she was pleased with being admired, but a sense of timidity was mingled with her joy, and seemed to ask pardon for her triumph.  The expression of her physiognomy, of her eyes, of her smile, interested all in her favour, and the first look made Lord Nelville her friend, even before that sentiment was subdued by a warmer impression.  Her arms were of dazzling beauty; her shape, tall, but rather full, after the manner of the Grecian statues, energetically characterised youth and happiness; and there was something inspired in her look.  One might perceive in her manner of greeting and returning thanks for the applause which she received, a kind of disposition which heightened the lustre of the extraordinary situation in which she was placed.