s health with all the enthusiastic joy of a
youthful heart.
    »I admire your filial affection,« said the abbot; »it proves the excellence
and sensibility of your character; it promises a treasure to him whom Heaven has
destined to possess your affections. The breast so capable of fondness for a
parent, what will it feel for a lover? Nay, perhaps, what feels it for one even
now? Tell me, my lovely daughter, have you known what it is to love? Answer me
with sincerity: forget my habit, and consider me only as a friend.«
    »What it is to love?« said she, repeating his question. »Oh! yes,
undoubtedly; I have loved many, many people.«
    »That is not what I mean. The love of which I speak can be felt only for
one. Have you never seen the man whom you wished to be your husband?«
    »Oh! no, indeed!«
    This was an untruth, but she was unconscious of its falsehood: she knew not
the nature of her sentiments for Lorenzo; and never having seen him since his
first visit to Elvira, with every day his image grew less feebly impressed upon
her bosom: besides, she thought of a husband with all a virgin's terror, and
negatived the friar's demand without a moment's hesitation.
    »And do you not long to see that man, Antonia? Do you feel no void in your
heart, which you fain would have filled up? Do you heave no sighs for the
absence of some one dear to you, but who that some one is you know not? Perceive
you not that what formerly could please, has charms for you no longer? that a
thousand new wishes, new ideas, new sensations, have sprung in your bosom, only
to be felt, never to be described? Or, while you fill every other heart with
passion, is it possible that your own remains insensible and cold? It cannot be!
That melting eye, that blushing cheek, that enchanting voluptuous melancholy
which at times overspreads your features - all these marks belie your words: you
love, Antonia, and in vain would hide it from me.«
    »Father, you amaze me! What is this love of which you speak? I neither know
its nature, nor, if I felt it, why I should conceal the sentiment.«
    »Have you seen no man, Antonia, whom, though never seen before, you seemed
long to have sought? whose form, though a stranger'
