On entering
her apartment, she beheld the wretched girl stretched on the floor
with the diamond cross in her hand. The bureau was still open. She
ran to succour Sophia, and by the application of essences recalled
her to life. The moment the latter awoke to consciousness, she threw
herself on her knees, wept desperately, tried to speak, but could
not; the only words she was at length able to articulate
were--'Forgive me! forgive me!'
The countess used every means to pacify her, by the compassionate
expression of her countenance, by her maternal gestures, caressing
and pressing her to her bosom, with words of comfort and tenderness.
'Calm yourself, calm yourself,' she said; 'go and take some repose;
you have need of it.'
'Countess,' replied Sophia, then wept anew. 'Shame, shame and
desperation! Oh, wretch that I am! Oh, my poor heart!'
'Go, go to bed, Sophia; to-morrow we will talk. Here is the light.'
Saying this, she reached her the lamp with one hand and led her by
the other, using a little affectionate violence to conduct her out of
the room, and prevent her from speaking another word.
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