observed--in court-dress, imposed a degree
of courtesy and deference in debate, of which men in wide-awake hats and
paletots are not always observant; and, unquestionably, in the little
ceremonial observances imposed by the stranger's presence, may be seen
the social benefits of a good breeding not marred by over-familiarity.
It was thus Calvert made his presence felt at the villa. It was true he
had many companionable qualities, and he had, or at least affected to
have, very wide sympathies. He was ever ready to read aloud, to row,
to walk, to work in the flower-garden, to sketch, or to copy music,
as though each was an especial pleasure to him. If he was not as high
spirited and light hearted as they once had seen him, it did not
detract from, but rather added to the interest he excited. He was in
misfortune--a calamity not the less to be compassionated that none could
accurately define it; some dreadful event had occurred, some terrible
consequence impended, and each felt the necessity of lighten ing the
load of his sorrow, and helping him to bear his affliction. They were so
glad when they could cheer him up, and so happy when they saw him take
even a passing pleasure in the pursuits their own days were spent in.
They had now been long enough in Italy not to feel depressed by its
dreamy and monotonous quietude, but to feel the inexpressible charm of
that soft existence, begotten of air, and climate, and scenery. They had
arrived at that stage--and it _is_ a stage--in which the olive is
not dusky, nor the mountain arid: when the dry course of the torrent
suggests no wish for water. Life--mere life--has a sense of luxury about
it, unfelt in northern lands. With an eager joy, therefore, did they
perceive that Calvert seemed to have arrived at the same sentiment, and
the same appreciation as themselves. He seemed to ask for nothing
better than to stroll through orange groves, or lie under some spreading
fig-tree, drowsily soothed by the song of the vine-dresser, or the
unwearied chirp of the cicala. How much of good there must be surely in
a nature pleased with such tranquil simple pleasures! thought they. See
how he likes to watch the children at their play, and with what courtesy
he talked to that old priest. It is clear dissipation may have damaged,
but has not destroyed that fine temperament--his heart has not lost its
power to feel. It was thus that each thought of him, though there was
less of confidence between t
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