The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 296: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CONFESSION OF ROMANTIC LOVE 279 gacies whereof the three sisters have been guilty, has coupled your name with the princess’s.”’ ‘Heavens!’ exclaimed the royal equerry, starting from his seat with indignation and excitement, “ no calumny can be more foul, no slander more detestable. Ah! Mr. Loftus, that I have loved her,’’ he continued, “‘ 1s but too true. When a mere youth, I was appointed secretary to the Prussian envoy at the Court of Brunswick. In the chapel at the ducal palace did I behold the Princess Caroline for the first time, and I believe there can be no sin in confessing that she ane a deep impression upon my heart. I loved her, and my love erew into a worship, intense, profound, yet delicate and pure and holy as the love of angels. I thought not of her as a woman, but as a being of a nature infinitely superior fo my own. I loved her, in fine, as a visionary may love a shadowy sylph or spiritual wood-nymph in the depths of the forest. That she comprehended my passion is beyond all doubt, and that she reciprocated it, too,’’ continued Bergami, his voice, which was so fine 1n its masculine melody, now gradually sinking to the lowest flutelike innotations, ‘is likewise certain. On one occasion she dropped a a sats from the ducal pew in the chapel at Brunswick. I picked it up, and placed it next to my heart. No one beheld this little incident, — or, at all events, no one attached any importance to it, save herself, and in her looks, in the blushes too, which rose upon her cheeks, did I read the sentiment of pleasure which this proof of my devotion excited in her heart. Without reflecting on the consequences, without pausing to remember that she never could be mine, and that this love-worship on my part could only lead to misery, disappointment, and despair, I continued to pursue my path of infatuation. I lived only for the moment, and if that moment were filled with the bliss of her image, and lighted by the soft glory of her smile, I cared not what change the next might bring. When I say care not, I am wrong; I should have said, thought not. I was fascinated, enchanted; aspell was upon me. It was not that my vanity was flattered in being thus tenderlv noticed bv a princess. No, because I boasted of 1t to no one; it was my own secret. I cherished it in my heart of hearts, enshrined it as the idol of my worship in the sanctuary of my soul. Then, I will not say with the folly of a youthful lover who fancies himself Connicbool CS (C(O)