“Will you not forgive me? You must be very difficult to appease—very revengeful!”
Flodoardo replied not.
“Will you refuse my offered hand? Shall all be forgotten?”
“Forgotten, lady? Never, never—every word and look of yours is stamped on my memory, never to be effaced. I cannot forget a transaction in which you bore a part: I cannot forget the scene that passed between us, every circumstance is too precious and sacred. As to pardon”—he took her extended hand and pressed it respectfully to his lips—“I would to Heaven, dear lady, that you had in truth injured me much, that I might have much to forgive you. Alas! I have at present nothing to pardon.”
Both were now silent. At length Rosabella resumed the conversation by saying—“You have made a long absence from Venice; did you travel far?”
“I did.”
“And received much pleasure from your journey?”
“Much; for everywhere I heard the praises of Rosabella.”
“Count Flodoardo,” she interrupted him with a look of reprehension, but in a gentle voice, “would you again offend me?”
“That will soon be out of my power. Perhaps you can guess what are my present intentions.”