It is impossible to express the various causes of satisfaction, which we discovered in these few words. It is no trifling comfort for bashful timid women to meet with persons of their own sex in a place, where they expected to find only rude turbulent soldiers; and here we found two benevolent beings, whose kind hearts had already induced them even without knowing us to interest themselves in our behalf. But that which above all seemed music to my ear, was the information, that one of these unknown ladies was Count Donat’s wife. In the course of our conversation, our conqueror’s eyes had frequently dwelt on Minna’s face with an expression by no means equivocal; I was strongly inclined to attribute his unexpected lenity entirely to my companion’s charms. Minna was the betrothed of another. Donat was a tyrant. My heart foreboded from these circumstances a long succession of difficulties and dangers; all of which were banished as phantoms existing only in my imagination, as soon as I understood, that Donat was already married, and that he hesitated not to place the young creature, whom he looked upon with so much interest, under the protection of his wife. We were presented to the ladies, who composed Count Donat’s family. We were graciously received: yet we could not help remarking, that the behaviour of the young Countess of Carlsheim rather exprest that condescension which is only used with inferiors, than the friendly openness which marked our reception by Count Donat’s sister, who was made known to us by the name of Adelaide, Lady of the Beacon-Tower. Besides this, it must be confest that the appearance of the Countess Mellusina (such was the name of Donat’s wife) was by no means such, as prejudiced us in her favour. The best that could be said of her, was that she was not ugly; and the haughty manners, which she thought proper to assume, were but ill calculated to make her person appear to advantage.—Oh! how different was Mellusina from the interesting Lady of the Beacon-Tower! —“Can this lovely woman,” I said to Minna, as soon as we were left alone, “can she be Lucretia’s daughter, and the sister of Count Donat? I vainly endeavoured to find in that heavenly countenance a single feature, which resembled her nearest relations.”— Minna however maintained, that she could discover a strong likeness to Count Donat; we at length determined, that early misfortune had extinguished the brilliant fire of Lucretia’s eyes, which (on further reflection I was compelled to own) had descended to her daughter; and also that female delicacy prevented her superior stature and commanding make (in both of which she was her brother’s very counterpart) from inspiring that terrific awe, which at sight of Count Donat made every beholder’s heart tremble.