sleep at length fell upon her senses, and the airy forms of ideal
bliss no longer fleeted before her imagination. Morning came, and she
arose light and refreshed. How different were her present sensations
from those of the preceding day. Her anxiety had now evaporated in
joy, and she experienced that airy dance of spirits which accumulates
delight from every object; and with a power like the touch of
enchantment, can transform a gloomy desert into a smiling Eden. She
flew to the breakfast-room, scarcely conscious of motion; but, as she
entered it, a soft confusion overcame her; she blushed, and almost
feared to meet the eyes of Vereza. She was presently relieved,
however, for the Count was not there. The company assembled--Julia
watched the entrance of every person with painful anxiety, but he for
whom she looked did not appear. Surprised and uneasy, she fixed her
eyes on the door, and whenever it opened, her heart beat with an
expectation which was as often checked by disappointment. In spite of
all her efforts, her vivacity sunk into languor, and she then
perceived that love may produce other sensations than those of
delight. She found it possible to be unhappy, though loved by
Hippolitus; and acknowledged with a sigh of regret, which was yet new
to her, how tremblingly her peace depended upon him. He neither
appeared nor was mentioned at breakfast; but though delicacy prevented
her enquiring after him, conversation soon became irksome to her, and
she retired to the apartment of Madame de Menon. There she employed
herself in painting, and endeavoured to beguile the time till the hour
of dinner, when she hoped to see Hippolitus. Madame was, as usual,
friendly and cheerful, but she perceived a reserve in the conduct of
Julia, and penetrated without difficulty into its cause. She was,
however, ignorant of the object of her pupil's admiration. The hour so
eagerly desired by Julia at length arrived, and with a palpitating
heart she entered the hall. The Count was not there, and in the course