In the meantime, it
was a pleasure to live in her native country, to walk in the streets
where she had walked, and before the houses that she had lived in; yet
all this was the work of conjecture, for one of my foolish
peculiarities was, not daring to inquire after her, or even
pronounce her name without the most absolute necessity. It seemed in
speaking of her that I declared all I felt, that my lips revealed
the secrets of my heart, and in some degree injured the object of my
affection. I believe fear was likewise mingled with this idea; I
dreaded to hear ill of her. Her management had been much spoken of,
and some little of her conduct in other respects; fearing,
therefore, that something might be said which I did not wish to
hear, I preferred being silent on the subject.
As my scholars did not take up much of my time, and the town where
she was born was not above four leagues from Lausanne, I made it a
walk of three or four days; during which time a most pleasant
emotion never left me. A view of the Lake of Geneva and its
admirable banks, had ever, in my idea, a particular attraction which I
cannot describe; not arising merely from the beauty of the prospect,
but something else, I know not why, more interesting, which affects
and softens me. Every time I have approached the Vaudois country I
have experienced an impression composed of the remembrance of Madam de
Warrens, who was born there; of my father, who lived there; of Miss
Vulson, who had been my first love, and of several pleasant journeys I
had made there in my childhood, mingled with some nameless charm, more
powerfully attractive than all the rest.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213