«
    Lorenzo smiled at the strength of her expressions.
    »You are young, and just entering into life,« said he: »your heart, new to
the world, and full of warmth and sensibility, receives its first impressions
with eagerness. Artless yourself, you suspect not others of deceit; and viewing
the world through the medium of your own truth and innocence, you fancy all who
surround you to deserve your confidence and esteem. What pity, that these gay
visions must soon be dissipated! What pity, that you must soon discover the
baseness of mankind, and guard against your fellow-creatures as against your
foes!«
    »Alas! Segnor,« replied Antonia, »the misfortunes of my parents have already
placed before me but too many sad examples of the perfidy of the world! Yet
surely in the present instance the warmth of sympathy cannot have deceived me.«
    »In the present instance, I allow that it has not. Ambrosio's character is
perfectly without reproach; and a man who has passed the whole of his life
within the walls of a convent, cannot have found the opportunity to be guilty,
even were he possessed of the inclination. But now, when, obliged by the duties
of his situation, he must enter occasionally into the world, and be thrown into
the way of temptation, it is now that it behoves him to show the brilliance of
his virtue. The trial is dangerous; he is just at that period of life when the
passions are most vigorous, unbridled, and despotic; his established reputation
will mark him out to seduction as an illustrious victim; novelty will give
additional charms to the allurements of pleasure; and even the talents with
which nature has endowed him will contribute to his ruin, by facilitating the
means of obtaining his object. Very few would return victorious from a contest
so severe.«
    »Ah! surely Ambrosio will be one of those few.«
    »Of that I have myself no doubt: by all accounts he is an exception to
mankind in general, and envy would seek in vain for a blot upon his character.«
    »Segnor, you delight me by this assurance! It encourages me to indulge my
prepossession in his favour; and you know not with what pain I should have
repressed the sentiment! Ah! dearest aunt, entreat my mother to choose him for
our confessor.«
    »I entreat her?« replied Leonella; »I promise you that I shall do no such
thing. I do not like this same Ambrosio in the least; he has a look of severity
about him that
