The Mysteries of Udolpho. Анна Радклиф

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СКАЧАТЬ remained so near. Some remarks, however, which the Count made upon the dance obliged her to turn her eyes towards it, and, at that moment, Valancourt’s met hers. Her colour faded again, she felt, that she was relapsing into faintness, and instantly averted her looks, but not before she had observed the altered countenance of Valancourt, on perceiving her. She would have left the spot immediately, had she not been conscious, that this conduct would have shown him more obviously the interest he held in her heart; and, having tried to attend to the Count’s conversation, and to join in it, she, at length, recovered her spirits. But, when he made some observation on Valancourt’s partner, the fear of showing that she was interested in the remark, would have betrayed it to him, had not the Count, while he spoke, looked towards the person of whom he was speaking. “The lady,” said he, “dancing with that young Chevalier, who appears to be accomplished in everything, but in dancing, is ranked among the beauties of Thoulouse. She is handsome, and her fortune will be very large. I hope she will make a better choice in a partner for life than she has done in a partner for the dance, for I observe he has just put the set into great confusion; he does nothing but commit blunders. I am surprised, that, with his air and figure, he has not taken more care to accomplish himself in dancing.”

      Emily, whose heart trembled at every word, that was now uttered, endeavoured to turn the conversation from Valancourt, by enquiring the name of the lady, with whom he danced; but, before the Count could reply, the dance concluded, and Emily, perceiving that Valancourt was coming towards her, rose and joined Madame Cheron.

      “Here is the Chevalier Valancourt, madam,” said she in a whisper, “pray let us go.” Her aunt immediately moved on, but not before Valancourt had reached them, who bowed lowly to Madame Cheron, and with an earnest and dejected look to Emily, with whom, notwithstanding all her effort, an air of more than common reserve prevailed. The presence of Madame Cheron prevented Valancourt from remaining, and he passed on with a countenance, whose melancholy reproached her for having increased it. Emily was called from the musing fit, into which she had fallen, by the Count Bauvillers, who was known to her aunt.

      “I have your pardon to beg, ma’amselle,” said he, “for a rudeness, which you will readily believe was quite unintentional. I did not know, that the Chevalier was your acquaintance, when I so freely criticised his dancing.” Emily blushed and smiled, and Madame Cheron spared her the difficulty of replying. “If you mean the person, who has just passed us,” said she, “I can assure you he is no acquaintance of either mine, or ma’amselle St. Aubert’s: I know nothing of him.”

      “O! that is the Chevalier Valancourt,” said Cavigni carelessly, and looking back. “You know him then?” said Madame Cheron. “I am not acquainted with him,” replied Cavigni. “You don’t know, then, the reason I have to call him impertinent;—he has had the presumption to admire my niece!”

      “If every man deserves the title of impertinent, who admires ma’amselle St. Aubert,” replied Cavigni, “I fear there are a great many impertinents, and I am willing to acknowledge myself one of the number.”

      “O Signor!” said Madame Cheron, with an affected smile, “I perceive you have learnt the art of complimenting, since you came into France. But it is cruel to compliment children, since they mistake flattery for truth.”

      Cavigni turned away his face for a moment, and then said with a studied air, “Whom then are we to compliment, madam? for it would be absurd to compliment a woman of refined understanding; she is above all praise.” As he finished the sentence he gave Emily a sly look, and the smile, that had lurked in his eye, stole forth. She perfectly understood it, and blushed for Madame Cheron, who replied, “You are perfectly right, signor, no woman of understanding can endure compliment.”

      “I have heard Signor Montoni say,” rejoined Cavigni, “that he never knew but one woman who deserved it.”

      “Well!” exclaimed Madame Cheron, with a short laugh, and a smile of unutterable complacency, “and who could she be?”

      “O!” replied Cavigni, “it is impossible to mistake her, for certainly there is not more than one woman in the world, who has both the merit to deserve compliment and the wit to refuse it. Most women reverse the case entirely.” He looked again at Emily, who blushed deeper than before for her aunt, and turned from him with displeasure.

      “Well, signor!” said Madame Cheron, “I protest you are a Frenchman; I never heard a foreigner say anything half so gallant as that!”

      “True, madam,” said the Count, who had been some time silent, and with a low bow, “but the gallantry of the compliment had been utterly lost, but for the ingenuity that discovered the application.”

      Madame Cheron did not perceive the meaning of this too satirical sentence, and she, therefore, escaped the pain, which Emily felt on her account. “O! here comes Signor Montoni himself,” said her aunt, “I protest I will tell him all the fine things you have been saying to me.” The Signor, however, passed at this moment into another walk. “Pray, who is it, that has so much engaged your friend this evening?” asked Madame Cheron, with an air of chagrin, “I have not seen him once.”

      “He had a very particular engagement with the Marquis La Rivière,” replied Cavigni, “which has detained him, I perceive, till this moment, or he would have done himself the honour of paying his respects to you, madam, sooner, as he commissioned me to say. But, I know not how it is—your conversation is so fascinating—that it can charm even memory, I think, or I should certainly have delivered my friend’s apology before.”

      “The apology, sir, would have been more satisfactory from himself,” said Madame Cheron, whose vanity was more mortified by Montoni’s neglect, than flattered by Cavigni’s compliment. Her manner, at this moment, and Cavigni’s late conversation, now awakened a suspicion in Emily’s mind, which, notwithstanding that some recollections served to confirm it, appeared preposterous. She thought she perceived, that Montoni was paying serious addresses to her aunt, and that she not only accepted them, but was jealously watchful of any appearance of neglect on his part.—That Madame Cheron at her years should elect a second husband was ridiculous, though her vanity made it not impossible; but that Montoni, with his discernment, his figure, and pretensions, should make a choice of Madame Cheron—appeared most wonderful. Her thoughts, however, did not dwell long on the subject; nearer interests pressed upon them; Valancourt, rejected of her aunt, and Valancourt dancing with a gay and beautiful partner, alternately tormented her mind. As she passed along the gardens she looked timidly forward, half fearing and half hoping that he might appear in the crowd; and the disappointment she felt on not seeing him, told her, that she had hoped more than she had feared.

      Montoni soon after joined the party. He muttered over some short speech about regret for having been so long detained elsewhere, when he knew he should have the pleasure of seeing Madame Cheron here; and she, receiving the apology with the air of a pettish girl, addressed herself entirely to Cavigni, who looked archly at Montoni, as if he would have said, “I will not triumph over you too much; I will have the goodness to bear my honours meekly; but look sharp, Signor, or I shall certainly run away with your prize.”

      The supper was served in different pavilions in the gardens, as well as in one large saloon of the château, and with more of taste, than either of splendour, or even of plenty. Madame Cheron and her party supped with Madame Clairval in the saloon, and Emily, with difficulty, disguised her emotion, when she saw Valancourt placed at the same table with herself. There, Madame Cheron having surveyed him with high displeasure, said to some person who sat next to her, “Pray, who is that young man?” “It is the Chevalier Valancourt,” was the answer. “Yes, I am not ignorant of his name, but who is this Chevalier Valancourt that thus intrudes himself at this table?” The attention of the person, to whom she spoke, was called off before she received a second reply. The table, at which СКАЧАТЬ