The barge stopped at a flight of marble steps, which led up the bank to
a lawn. Lights appeared between some pillars beyond the portico. Montoni
sent forward his servant, and then disembarked with his family. They
found Mons. and Madame Quesnel, with a few friends, seated on sofas in
the portico, enjoying the cool breeze of the night, and eating fruits
and ices, while some of their servants at a little distance, on
the river's bank, were performing a simple serenade. Emily was now
accustomed to the way of living in this warm country, and was not
surprised to find Mons. and Madame Quesnel in their portico, two hours
after midnight.
The usual salutations being over, the company seated themselves in the
portico, and refreshments were brought them from the adjoining hall,
where a banquet was spread, and servants attended. When the bustle
of this meeting had subsided, and Emily had recovered from the little
flutter into which it had thrown her spirits, she was struck with the
singular beauty of the hall, so perfectly accommodated to the luxuries
of the season. It was of white marble, and the roof, rising into an
open cupola, was supported by columns of the same material. Two opposite
sides of the apartment, terminating in open porticos, admitted to the
hall a full view of the gardens, and of the river scenery; in the centre
a fountain continually refreshed the air, and seemed to heighten the
fragrance, that breathed from the surrounding orangeries, while its
dashing waters gave an agreeable and soothing sound. Etruscan lamps,
suspended from the pillars, diffused a brilliant light over the interior
part of the hall, leaving the remoter porticos to the softer lustre of
the moon. Mons. Quesnel talked apart to Montoni of his own affairs, in his usual
strain of self-importance; boasted of his new acquisitions, and
then affected to pity some disappointments, which Montoni had lately
sustained. Meanwhile, the latter, whose pride at least enabled him to
despise such vanity as this, and whose discernment at once detected
under this assumed pity, the frivolous malignity of Quesnel's mind,
listened to him in contemptuous silence, till he named his niece, and
then they left the portico, and walked away into the gardens.
Emily, however, still attended to Madame Quesnel, who spoke of France
(for even the name of her native country was dear to her) and she found
some pleasure in looking at a person, who had lately been in it. That
country, too, was inhabited by Valancourt, and she listened to the
mention of it, with a faint hope, that he also would be named. Madame
Quesnel, who, when she was in France, had talked with rapture of Italy,
now, that she was in Italy, talked with equal praise of France, and
endeavoured to excite the wonder and the envy of her auditors by
accounts of places, which they had not been happy enough to see. In
these descriptions she not only imposed upon them, but upon herself, for
she never thought a present pleasure equal to one, that was passed;
and thus the delicious climate, the fragrant orangeries and all the
luxuries, which surrounded her, slept unnoticed, while her fancy
wandered over the distant scenes of a northern country.