The Mysteries of Udolpho

This Signor Montoni had an air of conscious superiority, animated

by spirit, and strengthened by talents, to which every person seemed

involuntarily to yield. The quickness of his perceptions was strikingly

expressed on his countenance, yet that countenance could submit

implicitly to occasion; and, more than once in this day, the triumph of

art over nature might have been discerned in it. His visage was long,

and rather narrow, yet he was called handsome; and it was, perhaps,

the spirit and vigour of his soul, sparkling through his features, that

triumphed for him. Emily felt admiration, but not the admiration that

leads to esteem; for it was mixed with a degree of fear she knew not

exactly wherefore.

Cavigni was gay and insinuating as formerly; and, though he paid almost

incessant attention to Madame Cheron, he found some opportunities of

conversing with Emily, to whom he directed, at first, the sallies of his

wit, but now and then assumed an air of tenderness, which she observed,

and shrunk from. Though she replied but little, the gentleness and

sweetness of her manners encouraged him to talk, and she felt relieved

when a young lady of the party, who spoke incessantly, obtruded herself

on his notice. This lady, who possessed all the sprightliness of

a Frenchwoman, with all her coquetry, affected to understand every

subject, or rather there was no affectation in the case; for, never

looking beyond the limits of her own ignorance, she believed she had

nothing to learn. She attracted notice from all; amused some, disgusted

others for a moment, and was then forgotten.

This day passed without any material occurrence; and Emily, though

amused by the characters she had seen, was glad when she could retire to

the recollections, which had acquired with her the character of duties.

A fortnight passed in a round of dissipation and company, and Emily, who

attended Madame Cheron in all her visits, was sometimes entertained, but

oftener wearied. She was struck by the apparent talents and knowledge

displayed in the various conversations she listened to, and it was long

before she discovered, that the talents were for the most part those of

imposture, and the knowledge nothing more than was necessary to assist

them. But what deceived her most, was the air of constant gaiety and

good spirits, displayed by every visitor, and which she supposed to

arise from content as constant, and from benevolence as ready. At

length, from the over-acting of some, less accomplished than the others,

she could perceive, that, though contentment and benevolence are

the only sure sources of cheerfulness, the immoderate and feverish

animation, usually exhibited in large parties, results partly from an

insensibility to the cares, which benevolence must sometimes derive

from the sufferings of others, and partly from a desire to display the

appearance of that prosperity, which they know will command submission

and attention to themselves.