These words were hard:  they deeply wounded the sensibility of Corinne; who, rising immediately, her eyes filled with tears, quitted the room and returned directly home.  Oswald was distracted at having offended her; but it was the irritation of his mind, occasioned by the impression she made in the ball, which had betrayed itself in the remarks that had just escaped him.  He followed her to her abode; but she refused to see him.  He called again the next morning, but in vain:  her door was closed against him.  This protracted refusal to receive Lord Nelville, was not agreeable to the disposition of Corinne; but she was painfully afflicted at the opinion he had expressed of the Italian women; and this very opinion induced her to form a determination of concealing, for the future, if possible, the sentiment that preyed on her heart.

Oswald, on his side, found, in this instance, that the behaviour of Corinne was not consistent with her natural simplicity, and he became confirmed more and more in the discontent with which the ball had inspired him; and a disposition of mind was excited from these circumstances, capable of struggling against the passion whose empire he dreaded.  His principles were rigid, and the mystery which enveloped the past life of her whom he loved, afflicted him intensely.  The manners of Corinne appeared to him most fascinating, but sometimes too much animated by the universal desire of pleasing.  He discovered much nobleness and reserve in her conversation and deportment; but she seemed to indulge in too much latitude of opinion.  In fact, Oswald was a captivated man, hurried away by the passion he felt for his accomplished mistress, but cherishing in his breast an opponent which combated his feelings.  Such a situation of mind is frequently attended with much bitterness.  We are dissatisfied with ourselves, and with others.  We suffer, and feel at the same time that our suffering ought to increase, or at least terminate in a violent explanation, by which one of those two sentiments that lacerate the heart must obtain a complete triumph.

It was in such a state of mind as this that Lord Nelville wrote to Corinne.  His letter was harsh and ungentlemanly.  He felt this; but various confused emotions impelled him to send it:  he was rendered so wretched by these internal conflicts, that he wished, at all hazards, for some circumstance or other to terminate them.

A report, which had just been communicated to him by the Count d’Erfeuil, though he did not give credence to it, contributed perhaps to give more asperity to his expressions.  It was noised about Rome, that Corinne was about to marry the Prince Amalfi.  Oswald knew very well that she did not love him, and of course concluded that the events of the ball afforded the only foundation for such a report; but he was convinced that she had been at home to the Prince on the morning when he himself was refused admission; and too proud to discover the slightest sentiment of jealousy, he satisfied his discontent by denigrating the nation, for which he beheld with so much pain, Corinne’s predilection.