“‘Yes, but I have no wish to fall into the embraces of my Danaë. Now, hear my last words. If you ever dare let it transpire that you are not really my mistress, I shall punish you severely. I will not only stop your salary, but I will cite you before the committee of morals, and you shall be forced into a marriage with somebody.’ “The singer shuddered and drew back. ‘Let me go at once into my boudoir. Is my breakfast ready?’ “‘No; your morning visits there begin to-morrow. Now go home to Count Palffy, and do not forget our contract.’ “‘I shall not forget it, prince,’ replied the signora, smiling. ‘I await your coach this evening. You may kiss me if you choose.’ She bent her head to his and held out her delicate cheek, fresh as a rose. “‘Simpleton,’ said he, slightly tapping her beautiful mouth, ‘do you suppose that the great Kaunitz would kiss any lips but those which, like the sensitive mimosa, shrink from the touch of man? Go away. Count Palffy will feel honored to reap the kisses I have left.’ “He gave her his hand, and looked after her, as with light and graceful carriage she left the room.” * * * * * Sir Walter Scott, in his “Rob Roy,” tells us how Frank Osbaldistone, in a moment of confusion and hesitancy, failed to return the half-proffered embrace of Diana Vernon, as she took leave of him on her way to the seclusion of conventual life, and how his absence of mind cost him many a bitter pang afterwards. It reminds one of Michael Angelo, who, at sixty, was enamored of a beautiful widow who died. The great painter and sculptor ever afterwards repented that he had not kissed her forehead and cheeks, as well as her hand, at the hour of parting: “Miss Vernon had in the mean time taken out a small case, and, leaning down from her horse towards me, she said, in a tone in which an effort at her usual quaint lightness of expression contended with a deeper and more grave tone of sentiment, ‘You see, my dear coz, I was born to be your better angel. Rashleigh has been compelled to yield up his spoil, and had we reached this same village of Aberfoil last night, as we purposed, I should have found some Highland sylph to waft to you all these representatives of commercial wealth. But there were giants and dragons in the way; and errant knights and damsels of modern times, bold though they be, must not, as of yore, run into useless danger. Do not you do so either, my dear coz.’ “‘Diana,’ said her companion, ‘let me once more warn you that the evening waxes late, and we are still distant from our home.’ “‘I am coming, sir, I am coming. Consider,’ she added, with a sigh, ‘how lately I have been subjected to control; besides, I have not yet given my cousin the packet, and bid him farewell—forever. Yes, Frank,’ she said, ‘_forever_! There is a gulf between us,—a gulf of absolute perdition; where we go you must not follow; what we do you must not share in. Farewell,—be happy!’