assions of her uncle.

She opposed his turbulence and indignation only by the mild dignity of
a superior mind; but the gentle firmness of her conduct served to
exasperate still more his resentment, since it compelled him to feel
his own inferiority, and, when he left her, he declared, that, if she
persisted in her folly, both himself and Montoni would abandon her to
the contempt of the world.

The calmness she had assumed in his presence failed Emily, when alone,
and she wept bitterly, and called frequently upon the name of her
departed father, whose advice to her from his death-bed she then
remembered. 'Alas!' said she, 'I do indeed perceive how much more
valuable is the strength of fortitude than the grace of sensibility,
and I will also endeavour to fulfil the promise I then made; I will
not indulge in unavailing lamentation, but will try to endure, with
firmness, the oppression I cannot elude.'

Somewhat soothed by the consciousness of performing a part of St.
Aubert's last request, and of endeavouring to pursue the conduct which
he would have approved, she overcame her tears, and, when the company
met at dinner, had recovered her usual serenity of countenance.

In the cool of the evening, the ladies took the FRESCO along the bank of
the Brenta in Madame Quesnel's carriage. The state of Emily's mind was
in melancholy contrast with the gay groups assembled beneath the shades
that overhung this enchanting stream. Some were dancing under the trees,
and others reclining on the grass, taking ices and coffee and calmly
enjoying the effect of a beautiful evening, on a luxuriant landscape.
Emily, when she looked at the snow-capt Apennines, ascending in the
distance, thought of Montoni's castle, and suffered some terror, lest he
should convey her thither, for the purpose of enforcing her obedience;
but the thought vanished, when she considered, that she was as much in
his power at Venice as she could be elsewhere.

It was moonlight before the party returned to the villa, where supper
was spread in the airy hall, which had so much enchanted Emily's fancy,
on the preceding night. The ladies seated themselves in the portico,
till Mons. Quesnel, Montoni, and other gentlemen should join them at
table, and Emily endeavoured to resign herself to the tranquillity of
the hour. Presently, a barge stopped at the steps that led into the
gardens, and, soon after, she distinguished the voices of Montoni and
Quesnel, and then that of