Fulvius stood embarrassed what to do next. Solitude made him feel as awkwardly situated, as a crowd was making Corvinus. He thought of retreating, but this would have destroyed all his hopes; he was going to advance, when he reflected that he might commit himself unpleasantly. At this critical juncture, whom should he see coming lightly across the court, but the youthful mistress of the house, all joy, all spring, all brightness and sunshine. As soon as she saw him, she stood, as if to receive his errand, and he approached with his blandest smile and most courtly gesture, and thus addressed her: “I have anticipated the usual hour at which visitors come, and, I fear, must appear an intruder, Lady Agnes; but I was impatient to inscribe myself as an humble client of your noble house.” “Our house,” she replied, smiling, “boasts of no clients, nor do we seek them; for we have no pretensions to influence or power.” “Pardon me; with such a ruler, it possesses the highest of influences and the mightiest of powers, those which reign, without effort, over the heart as a most willing subject.” Incapable of imagining that such words could allude to herself, she replied, with artless simplicity: “Oh, how true are your words! the Lord of this house is indeed the sovereign over the affections of all within it.” “But I,” interposed Fulvius, “allude to that softer and benigner dominion, which graceful charms alone can exercise on those who from near behold them.” Agnes looked as one entranced; her eyes beheld a very different image before them from that of her wretched flatterer; and with an impassioned glance towards heaven, she exclaimed: “Yes, He whose beauty sun and moon in their lofty firmament gaze on and admire, to Him is pledged my service and my love.”[56] Fulvius was confounded and perplexed. The inspired look, the rapturous attitude, the music of the thrilling tones in which she uttered these words, their mysterious import, the strangeness of the whole scene, fastened him to the spot, and sealed his lips; till, feeling that he was losing the most favorable opportunity he could ever expect of opening his mind (affection it could not be called) to her, he boldly said, “It is of you I am speaking; and I entreat you to believe my expression of sincerest admiration of you, and of unbounded attachment to you.” As he uttered these words, he dropt on his knee, and attempted to take her hand; but the maiden bounded back with a shudder, and turned away her burning countenance. Fulvius started in an instant to his feet; for he saw Sebastian, who was come to summon Agnes to the poor, impatient of her absence, striding forward towards him, with an air of indignation. “Sebastian,” said Agnes to him, as he approached, “be not angry; this gentleman has probably entered here by some unintentional mistake, and no doubt will quietly retire.” Saying this, she withdrew.