"Do not be afraid," said the countess, with a bewitching smile, "we are alone. You are at liberty to congratulate me upon my appearance, for I see by your eyes that you are dying to tell me how beautiful I am."
"Neither eyes nor tongue could give expression to a hundredth part of the rapture which my heart feels at your approach, Arabella," replied Podstadsky, gazing upon her with passionate admiration. "Surely every woman must hate you, and every man be intoxicated by your charms."
"They are intoxicated, Carlo," replied she. "They are such fools! To think that they are willing to commit any deed of folly for the sake of a fair face and two bright eyes."
"And you, my angel, are cruel to all, and for me alone has the proud
Countess Baillou a heart."
"A heart!" ejaculated the countess, with irony. "Do you believe in hearts, silly Carlo? My dear friend, I at least am without such an inconvenience. If I love any thing it is gold. Its chink to my ear is sweetest harmony, its touch thrills through my whole being."
"How you have changed, Arabella! The time was when your lips murmured words of love and despair, too?"
"Ay, Carlo! But the woman who murmured of love and despair—she who believed in innocence and loyalty, is buried in the Tiber. She whom you rescued thence has received the baptism of shame; and you, Count Podstadsky, were her sponsor. You taught me the art of lying and deceiving, and now you prate to me of a heart!"
"It is because your maddening beauty will not suffer me to forget that mine is still susceptible of love," replied Podstadsky.
The countess laughed, but there was no mirth in her voice. "Podstadsky," said she, throwing back her superb head, "you have about as much heart as a hare, who runs from a rustling leaf, taking it to be the clink of the hunter's rifle."
"And yet, Arabella," replied Podstadsky, with a sickly smile, "I am here, although sometimes I do start, and fancy that I hear the hunter's step behind me."