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.