132 THERESA ABRUZZJ. 



The countess looked wildly at him for a moment, pressed her 

 hands on her forehead, and fell to the earth msensible. They 

 hastened to raise her — alas ! in vain. In the violence of her 

 emotion, the very strings of life had loosened; a vessel had burst 

 on the brain, and tlie noble, the generous countess was a corpse. 



The events of some succeeding weeks must be passed lightly 

 over. The count was for a time inconsolable, and the emotions 

 of Theresa were such as to endanger her life : during this period 

 the agony of Marco was almost beyond endurance. The remains 

 of the countess were borne to the family tomb with princely pomp 

 and magnificence, which seemed intended as a feeble atonement to 

 the dead for injustice to the living. Vain as is that last subter- 

 fuge of intruding conscience it contributed to lull the remorse of 

 the count, whose ruling avarice once more arose, as the better 

 feelings of his nature grew less vivid, and rendered him as averse 

 as before to the fulfilment of his engagements. The fading 

 cheek, the dim eye, and the pleading looks of Theresa, had less 

 power over his will than the reviving desire of an alliance with 

 the prince of Castel-Monti, whom the knowledge of the altered 

 fortunes of Petroni had emboldened to renew his pretensions. 

 Marco, on the recovery of his mistress, had suddenly quitted 

 Mantua, and was not yet returned. The count, re-assured by 

 his absence, had urged the addresses of Castel-Monti on Theresa 

 with an earnestness which, in her enfeebled state of mind and 

 body, the memory of her oath could alone have enabled her to 

 resist. 



" These continued refusals," said he, one day when the prince, 

 again repulsed, had left the palace with some indication of resent- 

 ment; "these repeated refusals, my child, are unkind and un- 

 dutiful. Petroni, it is clear, has wisely and justly abandoned 

 his pretensions, and you are now therefore free." A faint shriek 

 from Theresa interrupted his counsels — Marco stood before them. 



For some time no one found utterance for feelings which were 

 bitter enough in all. 



" I stand before you, count," at length Marco said, ** poor, but 

 stainless. I dust not risk temptation, even for Theresa. My 

 father's manes are appeased — his debts are no more ! " 



" And the wealth of Petroni is also no more ? " 



*' It is nearly so, count." 



" You know my determination, ask me not to repeat it." 



" Will nothing then change it ? has the past spoken in vain ? '* 



