Our ghosts are more civilized than to condemn a lady to
a purgatory severer even, than their own, be it what it may.”

Mademoiselle Bearn replied only by a laugh; and, the Count now entering
the room, supper was served, during which he spoke little, frequently
appeared to be abstracted from the company, and more than once
remarked, that the place was greatly altered, since he had last seen
it. “Many years have intervened since that period,” said he; “and,
though the grand features of the scenery admit of no change, they
impress me with sensations very different from those I formerly
experienced.”

“Did these scenes, sir,” said Blanche, “ever appear more lovely, than
they do now? To me this seems hardly possible.” The Count, regarding
her with a melancholy smile, said, “They once were as delightful to me,
as they are now to you; the landscape is not changed, but time has
changed me; from my mind the illusion, which gave spirit to the
colouring of nature, is fading fast! If you live, my dear Blanche, to
revisit this spot, at the distance of many years, you will, perhaps,
remember and understand the feelings of your father.”

Lady Blanche, affected by these words, remained silent; she looked
forward to the period, which the Count anticipated, and considering,
that he, who now spoke, would then probably be no more, her eyes, bent
to the ground, were filed with tears. She gave her hand to her father,
who, smiling affectionately, rose from his chair, and went to a window
to conceal his emotion. The fatigues of the day made the party separate at an early hour, when
Blanche retired through a long oak gallery to her chamber, whose
spacious and lofty walls, high antiquated casements, and, what was the
effect of these, its gloomy air, did not reconcile her to its remote
situation, in this ancient building. The furniture, also, was of
ancient date; the bed was of blue damask, trimmed with tarnished gold
lace, and its lofty tester rose in the form of a canopy, whence the
curtains descended, like those of such tents as are sometimes
represented in old pictures, and, indeed, much resembling those,
exhibited on the faded tapestry, with which the chamber was hung. To
Blanche, every object here was matter of curiosity; and, taking the
light from her woman to examine the tapestry, she perceived, that it
represented scenes from the wars of Troy, though the almost colourless
worsted now mocked the glowing actions they once had painted. She
laughed at the ludicrous absurdity she observed, till, recollecting,
that the hands, which had wove it, were, like the poet, whose thoughts
of fire they had attempted to express, long since mouldered into dust,
a train of melancholy ideas passed over her mind, and she almost wept. Having given her woman a strict injunction to awaken her, before
sunrise, she dismissed her; and then, to dissipate the gloom, which
reflection had cast upon her spirits, opened one of the high casements,
and was again cheered by the face of living nature. The shadowy earth,
the air, and ocean—all was still. Along the deep serene of the heavens,
a few light clouds floated slowly, through whose skirts the stars now
seemed to tremble, and now to emerge with purer splendour. Blanche’s
thoughts arose involuntarily to the Great Author of the sublime objects
she contemplated, and she breathed a prayer of finer devotion, than any
she had ever uttered beneath the vaulted roof of a cloister. At this
casement, she remained till the glooms of midnight were stretched over
the prospect. She then retired to her pillow, and, “with gay visions of
tomorrow,” to those sweet slumbers, which health and happy innocence
only know. Tomorrow, to fresh woods and pastures new. CHAPTER XI

What transport to retrace our early plays,
Our easy bliss, when each thing joy supplied
The woods, the mountains and the warbling maze
Of the wild brooks! THOMSON


Blanche’s slumbers continued, till long after the hour, which she had
so impatiently anticipated, for her woman, fatigued with travelling,
did not call her, till breakfast was nearly ready. Her disappointment,
however, was instantly forgotten, when, on opening the casement, she
saw, on one hand, the wide sea sparkling in the morning rays, with its
stealing sails and glancing oars; and, on the other, the fresh woods,
the plains far-stretching and the blue mountains, all glowing with the
splendour of day. As she inspired the pure breeze, health spread a deeper blush upon her
countenance, and pleasure danced in her eyes. “Who could first invent convents!” said she, “and who could first
persuade people to go into them? and to make religion a pretence, too,
where all that should inspire it, is so carefully shut out! God is best
pleased with the homage of a grateful heart, and, when we view his
glories, we feel most grateful. I never felt so much devotion, during
the many dull years I was in the convent, as I have done in the few
hours, that I have been here, where I need only look on all around
me—to adore God in my inmost heart!”

Saying this, she left the window, bounded along the gallery, and, in
the next moment, was in the breakfast room, where the Count was already
seated. The cheerfulness of a bright sunshine had dispersed the
melancholy glooms of his reflections, a pleasant smile was on his
countenance, and he spoke in an enlivening voice to Blanche, whose
heart echoed back the tones. Henri and, soon after, the Countess with
Mademoiselle Bearn appeared, and the whole party seemed to acknowledge
the influence of the scene; even the Countess was so much reanimated as
to receive the civilities of her husband with complacency, and but once
forgot her good-humour, which was when she asked whether they had any
neighbours, who were likely to make _this barbarous spot _ more
tolerable, and whether the Count believed it possible for her to exist
here, without some amusement? Soon after breakfast the party dispersed; the Count, ordering his
steward to attend him in the library, went to survey the condition of
his premises, and to visit some of his tenants; Henri hastened with
alacrity to the shore to examine a boat, that was to bear them on a
little voyage in the evening and to superintend the adjustment of a
silk awning; while the Countess, attended by Mademoiselle Bearn,
retired to an apartment on the modern side of the château, which was
fitted up with airy elegance; and, as the windows opened upon
balconies, that fronted the sea, she was there saved from a view of the
_horrid_ Pyrenees. Here, while she reclined on a sofa, and, casting her
languid eyes over the ocean, which appeared beyond the wood-tops,
indulged in the luxuries of _ennui_, her companion read aloud a
sentimental novel, on some fashionable system of philosophy, for the
Countess was herself somewhat of a _philosopher_, especially as to
_infidelity_, and among a certain circle her opinions were waited for
with impatience, and received as doctrines.