But there were calls which must be complied with, and of this kind
was the visit he paid to his brother-in-law M. Quesnel. An affair of
an interesting nature made it necessary that he should delay this
visit no longer, and, wishing to rouse Emily from her dejection, he
took her with him to Epourville.

As the carriage entered upon the forest that adjoined his paternal
domain, his eyes once more caught, between the chesnut avenue, the
turreted corners of the chateau. He sighed to think of what had
passed since he was last there, and that it was now the property of a
man who neither revered nor valued it. At length he entered the
avenue, whose lofty trees had so often delighted him when a boy, and
whose melancholy shade was now so congenial with the tone of his
spirits. Every feature of the edifice, distinguished by an air of
heavy grandeur, appeared successively between the branches of the
trees--the broad turret, the arched gate-way that led into the
courts, the drawbridge, and the dry fosse which surrounded the whole.

The sound of carriage wheels brought a troop of servants to the great
gate, where St. Aubert alighted, and from which he led Emily into the
gothic hall, now no longer hung with the arms and ancient banners of
the family. These were displaced, and the oak wainscotting, and
beams that crossed the roof, were painted white. The large table,
too, that used to stretch along the upper end of the hall, where the
master of the mansion loved to display his hospitality, and whence
the peal of laughter, and the song of conviviality, had so often
resounded, was now removed; even the benches that had surrounded the
hall were no longer there. The heavy walls were hung with frivolous
ornaments, and every thing that appeared denoted the false taste and
corrupted sentiments of the present owner.