assiduities of the other ladies, he sometimes addressed Emily: but
she knew nothing of Parisian fashions, or Parisian operas; and her
modesty, simplicity, and correct manners formed a decided contrast to
those of her female companions.

After dinner, St. Aubert stole from the room to view once more the
old chesnut which Quesnel talked of cutting down. As he stood under
its shade, and looked up among its branches, still luxuriant, and saw
here and there the blue sky trembling between them; the pursuits and
events of his early days crowded fast to his mind, with the figures
and characters of friends--long since gone from the earth; and he now
felt himself to be almost an insulated being, with nobody but his
Emily for his heart to turn to.

He stood lost amid the scenes of years which fancy called up, till
the succession closed with the picture of his dying wife, and he
started away, to forget it, if possible, at the social board.

St. Aubert ordered his carriage at an early hour, and Emily observed,
that he was more than usually silent and dejected on the way home;
but she considered this to be the effect of his visit to a place
which spoke so eloquently of former times, nor suspected that he had
a cause of grief which he concealed from her.

On entering the chateau she felt more depressed than ever, for she
more than ever missed the presence of that dear parent, who, whenever
she had been from home, used to welcome her return with smiles and
fondness; now, all was silent and forsaken.

But what reason and effort may fail to do, time effects. Week after