St. Aubert followed a gay Parisian servant to a parlour, where sat Mons.

and Madame Quesnel, who received him with a stately politeness, and,

after a few formal words of condolement, seemed to have forgotten that

they ever had a sister.

Emily felt tears swell into her eyes, and then resentment checked them.

St. Aubert, calm and deliberate, preserved his dignity without assuming

importance, and Quesnel was depressed by his presence without exactly

knowing wherefore.

After some general conversation, St. Aubert requested to speak with him

alone; and Emily, being left with Madame Quesnel, soon learned that a

large party was invited to dine at the chateau, and was compelled to

hear that nothing which was past and irremediable ought to prevent the

festivity of the present hour.

St. Aubert, when he was told that company were expected, felt a mixed

emotion of disgust and indignation against the insensibility of Quesnel,

which prompted him to return home immediately. But he was informed, that

Madame Cheron had been asked to meet him; and, when he looked at Emily,

and considered that a time might come when the enmity of her uncle would

be prejudicial to her, he determined not to incur it himself, by conduct

which would be resented as indecorous, by the very persons who now

showed so little sense of decorum.

Among the visitors assembled at dinner were two Italian gentlemen, of

whom one was named Montoni, a distant relation of Madame Quesnel, a man

about forty, of an uncommonly handsome person, with features manly and

expressive, but whose countenance exhibited, upon the whole, more of the

haughtiness of command, and the quickness of discernment, than of any

other character. Signor Cavigni, his friend, appeared to be about thirty--inferior in

dignity, but equal to him in penetration of countenance, and superior in

insinuation of manner.

Emily was shocked by the salutation with which Madame Cheron met her

father--'Dear brother,' said she, 'I am concerned to see you look so

very ill; do, pray, have advice!' St. Aubert answered, with a melancholy

smile, that he felt himself much as usual; but Emily's fears made her

now fancy that her father looked worse than he really did.

Emily would have been amused by the new characters she saw, and the

varied conversation that passed during dinner, which was served in a

style of splendour she had seldom seen before, had her spirits been less

oppressed. Of the guests, Signor Montoni was lately come from Italy, and

he spoke of the commotions which at that period agitated the country;

talked of party differences with warmth, and then lamented the probable

consequences of the tumults. His friend spoke with equal ardour, of

the politics of his country; praised the government and prosperity

of Venice, and boasted of its decided superiority over all the other

Italian states. He then turned to the ladies, and talked with the same

eloquence, of Parisian fashions, the French opera, and French manners;

and on the latter subject he did not fail to mingle what is so

particularly agreeable to French taste. The flattery was not detected

by those to whom it was addressed, though its effect, in producing

submissive attention, did not escape his observation. When he could

disengage himself from the assiduities of the other ladies, he sometimes

addressed Emily: but she knew nothing of Parisian fashions, or Parisian

operas; and her modesty, simplicity, and correct manners formed a

decided contrast to those of her female companions.




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