I know not well how to describe her to you. Her beauty interests not
less than it dazzles. There is that deep and eloquent softness in her
every word and action, which, of all charms, is the most dangerous. Yet
she is rather of a playful than of the melancholy and pensive nature
which generally accompanies such gentleness of manner; but there is no
levity in her character; nor is that playfulness of spirit ever carried
into the exhilaration of what we call "mirth." She seems, if I may use
the antithesis, at once too feeling to be gay, and too innocent to be
sad. I remember having frequently met her husband. Cold and pompous,
without anything to interest the imagination, or engage the affections,
I am not able to conceive a person less congenial to his beautiful and
romantic wife. But she must have been exceedingly young when she married
him; and she, probably, knows not yet that she is to be pitied, because
she has not yet learned that she can love.

Le veggio in fronte amor come in suo seggio
Sul crin, negli occhi--su le labra amore
Sol d'intorno al suo cuore amor non veggio.

I have been twice to her house since my first admission there. I love to
listen to that soft and enchanting voice, and to escape from the gloom of
my own reflections to the brightness, yet simplicity, of hers. In my
earlier days this comfort would have been attended with danger; but we
grow callous from the excess of feeling. We cannot re-illumine ashes!
I can gaze upon her dream-like beauty, and not experience a single desire
which can sully the purity of my worship. I listen to her voice when it
melts in endearment over her birds, her flowers, or, in a deeper
devotion, over her child; but my heart does not thrill at the tenderness
of the sound. I touch her hand, and the pulses of my own are as calm as
before. Satiety of the past is our best safeguard from the temptations