"Forgive me!" he said, smiling, "this boy--"
"Because he is a boy," she cried, and a stream of passionate feeling gushed from her large widely-opened eyes,--"because he is so pure, so good, and so beautiful," she whispered, and her eyes were veiled with mist.
The count looked at her very gravely.
"Do you know," he said, "that the love which rules you will take from you the power of ruling others, and of being my ally?"
"No," she cried, "no, it will strengthen me; but the vain longing in my heart makes me gloomy and weak,--oh! give him back to me again. I own my weakness, let me in this one point be weak, and I promise in every other you shall find me strong and immovable."
"Had you told me before what you now tell me," said he thoughtfully, "it might have been possible, perhaps, but now it is out of my power, and--I may not use it; this young man shall not be the plaything of your caprice," he said gravely and decidedly, "shake off this weakness, be strong, and forget this fancy!"
She rose cold and calm.
"Let us speak of it no more," she said in her accustomed tone.
The count examined her attentively.
"You own I am right?" he asked.