'How little do you know me, madam, that you should think such an
injunction necessary!' said Emily, trying to suppress her emotion, 'how
little of the dear parents, who educated me!'
Madame Cheron now went to dress for an engagement, which she had made
for the evening; and Emily, who would gladly have been excused from
attending her aunt, did not ask to remain at home lest her request
should be attributed to an improper motive. When she retired to her own
room, the little fortitude, which had supported her in the presence of
her relation, forsook her; she remembered only that Valancourt, whose
character appeared more amiable from every circumstance, that unfolded
it, was banished from her presence, perhaps, for ever, and she passed
the time in weeping, which, according to her aunt's direction, she ought
to have employed in dressing. This important duty was, however, quickly
dispatched; though, when she joined Madame Cheron at table, her eyes
betrayed, that she had been in tears, and drew upon her a severe
reproof. Her efforts to appear cheerful did not entirely fail when she joined the
company at the house of Madame Clairval, an elderly widow lady, who had
lately come to reside at Tholouse, on an estate of her late husband. She
had lived many years at Paris in a splendid style; had naturally a gay
temper, and, since her residence at Tholouse, had given some of the most
magnificent entertainments, that had been seen in that neighbourhood.
These excited not only the envy, but the trifling ambition of Madame
Cheron, who, since she could not rival the splendour of her festivities,
was desirous of being ranked in the number of her most intimate friends.
For this purpose she paid her the most obsequious attention, and made
a point of being disengaged, whenever she received an invitation from
Madame Clairval, of whom she talked, wherever she went, and derived much
self-consequence from impressing a belief on her general acquaintance,
that they were on the most familiar footing.
The entertainments of this evening consisted of a ball and supper; it
was a fancy ball, and the company danced in groups in the gardens,
which were very extensive. The high and luxuriant trees, under which the
groups assembled, were illuminated with a profusion of lamps, disposed
with taste and fancy. The gay and various dresses of the company, some
of whom were seated on the turf, conversing at their ease, observing
the cotillons, taking refreshments, and sometimes touching sportively a
guitar; the gallant manners of the gentlemen, the exquisitely capricious
air of the ladies; the light fantastic steps of their dances; the
musicians, with the lute, the hautboy, and the tabor, seated at the foot
of an elm, and the sylvan scenery of woods around were circumstances,
that unitedly formed a characteristic and striking picture of French
festivity.