The chateau, a modern building in Italian style, with two projecting

wings and three flights of steps, lay at the foot of an immense

green-sward, on which some cows were grazing among groups of large trees

set out at regular intervals, while large beds of arbutus, rhododendron,

syringas, and guelder roses bulged out their irregular clusters of

green along the curve of the gravel path. A river flowed under a bridge;

through the mist one could distinguish buildings with thatched roofs

scattered over the field bordered by two gently sloping, well timbered

hillocks, and in the background amid the trees rose in two parallel

lines the coach houses and stables, all that was left of the ruined old

chateau.

Charles's dog-cart pulled up before the middle flight of steps; servants

appeared; the Marquis came forward, and, offering his arm to the

doctor's wife, conducted her to the vestibule.

It was paved with marble slabs, was very lofty, and the sound of

footsteps and that of voices re-echoed through it as in a church.

Opposite rose a straight staircase, and on the left a gallery

overlooking the garden led to the billiard room, through whose door one

could hear the click of the ivory balls. As she crossed it to go to the

drawing room, Emma saw standing round the table men with grave faces,

their chins resting on high cravats. They all wore orders, and smiled

silently as they made their strokes.

On the dark wainscoting of the walls large gold frames bore at

the bottom names written in black letters. She read: "Jean-Antoine

d'Andervilliers d'Yvervonbille, Count de la Vaubyessard and Baron de la

Fresnay, killed at the battle of Coutras on the 20th of October,

1857." And on another: "Jean-Antoine-Henry-Guy d'Andervilliers de

la Vaubyessard, Admiral of France and Chevalier of the Order of St.

Michael, wounded at the battle of the Hougue-Saint-Vaast on the 29th of

May, 1692; died at Vaubyessard on the 23rd of January 1693." One could

hardly make out those that followed, for the light of the lamps lowered

over the green cloth threw a dim shadow round the room. Burnishing the

horizontal pictures, it broke up against these in delicate lines where

there were cracks in the varnish, and from all these great black squares

framed in with gold stood out here and there some lighter portion of the

painting--a pale brow, two eyes that looked at you, perukes flowing over

and powdering red-coated shoulders, or the buckle of a garter above a

well-rounded calf.

The Marquis opened the drawing room door; one of the ladies (the

Marchioness herself) came to meet Emma. She made her sit down by her on

an ottoman, and began talking to her as amicably as if she had known her

a long time. She was a woman of about forty, with fine shoulders, a hook

nose, a drawling voice, and on this evening she wore over her brown hair

a simple guipure fichu that fell in a point at the back. A fair young

woman sat in a high-backed chair in a corner; and gentlemen with flowers

in their buttonholes were talking to ladies round the fire.




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