Oswald, on entering the apartment of Corinne, felt more timid than ever.  He saw that she was alone, and that circumstance almost gave him pain:  he could have wished to see her longer in the midst of society; he could have wished to be convinced, in some manner, of her preference, instead of finding himself all of a sudden engaged in a conversation which might make Corinne cool towards him, if, as was certain, he should appear embarrassed, and cold in consequence of that embarrassment.

Whether Corinne perceived this disposition of Oswald, or whether it was that a similar disposition produced in her a desire to animate the conversation in order to remove restraint, she asked his Lordship whether he had seen any of the monuments of Rome.  “No,” answered Oswald.  “What did you do with yourself yesterday, then?” replied Corinne smiling.  “I passed the whole day at home,” said Oswald.  “Since I have been at Rome, Madam, my time has been divided between solitude and you.”  Corinne wished to introduce the subject of his behaviour at Ancona; she began by these words:  “Yesterday I learnt—­” then she stopped and said, “I will speak to you of that when the company comes.”  There was a dignity in the manners of Lord Nelville that intimidated Corinne; and, besides, she feared, lest in reminding him of his noble conduct, she should betray too much emotion; conceiving that emotion would be less when they were no longer alone.  Oswald was deeply touched with the reserve of Corinne, and the frankness with which she testified, without thinking, the motives of that reserve; but the more he was affected the less was he able to express what he felt.

He arose all of a sudden, and advanced towards the window; then he felt that Corinne would be unable to explain the meaning of this movement, and more disconcerted than ever, he returned to his place without saying anything.  There was in the conversation of Corinne more confidence than in that of Oswald; nevertheless, she partook of the embarrassment which he exhibited; and in her absence of mind, seeking to recover her countenance, she placed her fingers upon the harp which was standing by her side, and struck some chords, without connection or design.  These harmonious sounds, by increasing the emotion of Oswald, seemed to inspire him with more boldness.  He could now look at Corinne, and who but must have been struck, in beholding her, with that divine inspiration which was painted in her eyes!  Encouraged at the same moment by that mild expression which veiled the majesty of her looks, he would then perhaps have spoken, but was prevented by the entrance of Prince Castel-Forte.