They say, that Female Innocence, forgetful of herself while she is occupied with the interests of others, was never known to supplicate without success. My uncle had exerted all his powers of argument without producing conviction in the bosom of the Count of Carlsheim. He was silent, and I was now permitted to advance a few representations on the subject. I spoke not much; but I spoke with force and feeling, and I flattered myself, that I could read in Ethelbert’s radiant eyes, that what I said had not totally failed of its effect. He answered not; but he cast on me a look so full of expression, that I felt my cheeks covered with blushes, hastily let fall my veil, and retreated towards my uncle: —“Count Venosta,” said Ethelbert at length, “here is my hand! decide the business according to your own pleasure. So fair and virtuous a Damsel would never support the cause of guilt! the discontented monks shall keep their superior—and if the Abbot wishes to secure their obedience for ever, let him only request his powerful advocate to exert upon _them_ the same powers of persuasion, which she has just now employed upon _me_, and he cannot fail to obtain his object. Methinks the Man might make himself Lord of the whole universe, would he but use this means, and though loaded with crimes might steal himself into Paradise, covered by the protecting mantle of such a saint.—” These compliments seemed to me not less free than flattering. A look too of my uncle’s informed me, that they were by no means to his taste, and I quitted the room embarrassed and uneasy. I had the satisfaction to see my friends justified and reinstated in their dignities, in defiance of their numerous foes; but I had also the mortification to experience some consequences of my well-intended interference, which were by no means agreeable. The first was a very severe remonstrance from Count Venosta respecting the ardour, or the importunity as he termed it, with which I had prest my suit upon Ethelbert. —“Had Urania been a simple Alpine shepherdess,” said my uncle, “who, concealed, among her native mountains, had never heard of the insolent expectations, which men ground upon the slightest demonstration of female good-will towards them, I might, perhaps, find some excuse for the free tone with which she spoke to a stranger, and the tender expression which she infused into her supplicating looks; but Urania, educated in a Court, should have been more upon her guard. Handsome as are his features, the Count of Carlsheim’s bold and ardent gaze was such as by no means gave me a favourable opinion of his delicacy; and still less was I pleased by the liberty which he took of addressing you in a strain of flattery so undisguised. Hitherto I have been disposed to entertain a favourable opinion of the young man; but I confess, what I have seen of him to-day has shaken my goodwill not a little.”—