in the door. Formerly, when appearing in society,
the moment I made my _entree_ I found myself the centre of a group of
friends and admirers, all eagerly pressing forward to pay their homage
to the star of fashion. Now, what was my amazement to mark no thrill
of pleasure, as of old, animate that vast assembly!--not even surprise!
group after group passed by me, as though I were unknown, and had no
claim to their attention. It is true, I heard some friendly voices
and kind inquiries; but I could neither distinguish the words nor the
speaker. My brain was in a whirl; for, alas! long since had I learned to
care less for the language of affection than the voice of the flatterer.
I stood thunderstruck and amazed; and it was some minutes before I
could, with any appearance of composure, reply to the salutations I met
with. Something must have occurred in my absence to weaken the interest
my appearance ever excited;--but what could that be? And the assembly,
too! had my own baffled hopes lent their gloomy colouring to all
around? I certainly thought it far less brilliant than usual; a sad
and depressing influence seemed to pervade all the guests, which
they appeared vainly to struggle against. Tortured with doubt and
disappointment, I hastened through the crowd to where the Count was
standing, surrounded by his suite. His quick eye instantly perceived me,
and, familiarly kissing his hand to me, he continued to converse
with those about him. Up to this moment I had borne all the chilling
indifference of manner I met with, from the secret satisfaction that
told me in my heart that he, my protector, my friend, would soon
vindicate my claim to notice and distinction, and that, in the sunshine
of his favour, I should soon receive the attention my heart thirsted
for. But now that hope deserted me, the cold distance of his manner
chilled me to the very heart's core* Not one word of kind inquiry, no
friendly chiding for protracted absence, no warm welcome for my coming!
I looked around on every side for some clue to this strange mystery;
I felt as if all eyes were upon me, and thought for a moment I could
perceive the sneer of gratified malice at my downfall. But no: I was
unnoticed and unobserved; and even this hurt me still more. Alas! alas!
the few moments of heart-cutting, humbling misery I then endured, too
dearly paid for all the selfish gratification I reaped from being the
idol of fashion. While I remained thus the Count approac