“Good evening, my Lord,” said she with evident confusion, “have you not met Lady Delier?” “No, my Lady! I have not.” “She left me some time since, and might already have returned.” “Very strange! I am come to take leave, and meet you first by accident.” “Leave?” she replied with surprise, “Then you are determined to depart to-morrow.” “I must.” A long pause. “And you are going to Ma***t?” “To Ma***t, and from thence to my native country.” A second pause. At length she said with emphasis and affection: “Heaven protect you on your journey.” “Dearest Countess--” “What is the matter with you, my Lord?” Amelia exclaimed, fixing her eyes on me, “Good God, how pale you look!” The emotions of my heart were dreadful; my working bosom threatened to burst. “God knows,” I replied with a faltering voice, “whether I shall see you again.” “We shall certainly meet again,” said she, looking up to heaven. “Merciful God! should my hopes blossom first beyond the grave.” “What hopes?” she exclaimed with inquisitive astonishment. “And do you not divine how this separation will wound my heart?” Amelia looked anxiously around, as if seeking Lady Delier; and then fixed her eyes again doubtfully on me. “My Lord, your words and your behaviour are mysterious to me.” “Then receive their explanation kindly,” I replied, letting myself down on one knee, and taking hold of her hand, “I love you.” The Countess was struck dumb with surprise.----“And this you tell me when taking _leave!_” she lisped at length. I fancied I perceived a soft pressure from her hand, and returned it with glowing lips. She bent her taper form to raise me up, and Lady Delier stepped suddenly between us. “What do I see?” she exclaimed, dissembling astonishment, “a declaration of love?” Amelia remained silent, and the Baroness repeated her question. “A declaration, my Lady!” I replied, but no answer. “My sweet friend,” she whispered archly in Amelia’s ear, “I hope you will not let him despair.” “I cannot conceive, my Lord,” Amelia replied, “why you make this declaration when taking _leave!_” I told her nearly the same I had said to the Baroness in the morning. Amelia viewed me a long time with silent astonishment, and at length replied: “A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding on both sides! very strange indeed!” she shook her head smiling. “My dearest love,” the Baroness exclaimed, “look at the Duke, how he watches every word of yours in hope of receiving an answer.” Amelia seemed to hesitate what to reply; however, after a short silence, said to me with the innate dignity of a noble, generous mind: “My Lord, if you want to have a consort, then I must beg you to forget me. But if you are in quest of a loving heart, then--” added she in a low accent, and with crimsoning cheeks, “you have found it.”