At this melancholy period St. Aubert was likewise visited by Madame
Cheron, his only surviving sister, who had been some years a widow, and
now resided on her own estate near Tholouse. The intercourse between
them had not been very frequent. In her condolements, words were not
wanting; she understood not the magic of the look that speaks at once
to the soul, or the voice that sinks like balm to the heart: but she
assured St. Aubert that she sincerely sympathized with him, praised the
virtues of his late wife, and then offered what she considered to be
consolation. Emily wept unceasingly while she spoke; St. Aubert was
tranquil, listened to what she said in silence, and then turned the
discourse upon another subject.
At parting she pressed him and her niece to make her an early visit.
'Change of place will amuse you,' said she, 'and it is wrong to give way
to grief.' St. Aubert acknowledged the truth of these words of course;
but, at the same time, felt more reluctant than ever to quit the spot
which his past happiness had consecrated. The presence of his wife
had sanctified every surrounding scene, and, each day, as it gradually
softened the acuteness of his suffering, assisted the tender enchantment
that bound him to home.
But there were calls which must be complied with, and of this kind was
the visit he paid to his brother-in-law M. Quesnel. An affair of an
interesting nature made it necessary that he should delay this visit no
longer, and, wishing to rouse Emily from her dejection, he took her with
him to Epourville.
As the carriage entered upon the forest that adjoined his paternal
domain, his eyes once more caught, between the chesnut avenue, the
turreted corners of the chateau. He sighed to think of what had passed
since he was last there, and that it was now the property of a man who
neither revered nor valued it. At length he entered the avenue, whose
lofty trees had so often delighted him when a boy, and whose melancholy
shade was now so congenial with the tone of his spirits. Every feature
of the edifice, distinguished by an air of heavy grandeur, appeared
successively between the branches of the trees--the broad turret, the
arched gate-way that led into the courts, the drawbridge, and the dry
fosse which surrounded the whole.
The sound of carriage wheels brought a troop of servants to the great
gate, where St. Aubert alighted, and from which he led Emily into the
gothic hall, now no longer hung with the arms and ancient banners of the
family. These were displaced, and the oak wainscotting, and beams that
crossed the roof, were painted white. The large table, too, that used to
stretch along the upper end of the hall, where the master of the mansion
loved to display his hospitality, and whence the peal of laughter, and
the song of conviviality, had so often resounded, was now removed; even
the benches that had surrounded the hall were no longer there. The heavy
walls were hung with frivolous ornaments, and every thing that appeared
denoted the false taste and corrupted sentiments of the present owner.