She ceased. While she spoke, a thousand opposing sentiments combated in Ambrosio’s bosom. Surprise at the singularity of this adventure, confusion at her abrupt declaration, resentment at her boldness in entering the monastery, and consciousness of the austerity with which it behoved him to reply, such were the sentiments of which he was aware; but there were others also which did not obtain his notice. He perceived not, that his vanity was flattered by the praises bestowed upon his eloquence and virtue; that he felt a secret pleasure in reflecting that a young and seemingly lovely woman had for his sake abandoned the world, and sacrificed every other passion to that which he had inspired: still less did he perceive that his heart throbbed with desire, while his hand was pressed gently by Matilda’s ivory fingers.

By degrees he recovered from his confusion. His ideas became less bewildered: he was immediately sensible of the extreme impropriety, should Matilda be permitted to remain in the abbey after this avowal of her sex. He assumed an air of severity, and drew away his hand.