She wept. I bowed on her hand with profound respect. She retired with
precipitation. It was with difficulty that I suppressed the rising tear.
I took my seat.

I made no answer to the general's last question, though it was spoken in
such a way (I saw by their eyes) as took every other person's notice.

Lady Sforza, when her sister was retired, hinted, that the last interview
between the young lady and me was an unadvised permission, though
intended for the best.

I then took upon me to defend that step. Lady Clementina, said I, had
declared, that if she were allowed to speak her whole mind to me, she
should be easy. I had for some time given myself up to absolute despair.
The marchioness intended not favour to me in allowing of the interview:
it was the most affecting one to me I had ever known. But let me say,
that, far from having bad effects on the young lady's mind, it had good
ones. I hardly knew how to talk upon a subject so very interesting to
every one present, but not more so to any one than to myself. I thought
of avoiding it; and have been led into it, but did not lead. And since
it is before us, let me recommend, as the most effectual way to restore
every one to peace and happiness, gentle treatment. The most generous of
human minds, the most meek, the most dutiful, requires not harsh
methods.

How do you know, sir, said the general, and looked at Jeronymo, the
methods now taken--

And are they then harsh, my lord? said I.