on the shore, came in the breeze, and, now and
then, the melancholy dashing of oars was feebly heard from a distance.
She was suffered to indulge her pensive mood, for the thoughts of the
rest of the party were silently engaged upon the subjects of their
several interests. Meanwhile, the Countess, reflecting, with regret,
upon the gay parties she had left at Paris, surveyed, with disgust, what
she thought the gloomy woods and solitary wildness of the scene; and,
shrinking from the prospect of being shut up in an old castle, was
prepared to meet every object with displeasure. The feelings of Henri
were somewhat similar to those of the Countess; he gave a mournful sigh
to the delights of the capital, and to the remembrance of a lady,
who, he believed, had engaged his affections, and who had certainly
fascinated his imagination; but the surrounding country, and the mode
of life, on which he was entering, had, for him, at least, the charm of
novelty, and his regret was softened by the gay expectations of youth.
The gates being at length unbarred, the carriage moved slowly on, under
spreading chesnuts, that almost excluded the remains of day, following
what had been formerly a road, but which now, overgrown with luxuriant
vegetation, could be traced only by the boundary, formed by trees,
on either side, and which wound for near half a mile among the woods,
before it reached the chateau. This was the very avenue that St.
Aubert and Emily had formerly entered, on their first arrival in the
neighbourhood, with the hope of finding a house, that would receive
them, for the night, and had so abruptly quitted, on perceiving the
wildness of the place, and a figure, which the postillion had fancied
was a robber.

'What a dismal place is this!' exclaimed the Countess, as the carriage
penetrated the deeper recesses of the woods. 'Surely, my lord, you do
not mean to pass all the autumn in this barbarous spot! One ought to
bring hither a cup of the waters of Lethe, that the remembrance of
pleasanter scenes may not heighten, at least, the natural dreariness of
these.'

'I shall be governed by circumstances, madam,' said the Count, 'this
barbarous spot was inhabited by my ancestors.'

The carriage now stopped at the chateau, where, at the door of the great
hall, appeared the old steward and the Parisian servants, who had been
sent to prepare the chateau, waiting to receive their lord. Lady Blanche
now perceived, that the edifice was not