in Gascony, had contented
himself with giving him letters of introduction to such of his
relations, residing at Paris, as the latter was not already known to.
All these were persons of some distinction; and, as neither the person,
mind, or manners of Valancourt the younger threatened to disgrace their
alliance, they received him with as much kindness as their nature,
hardened by uninterrupted prosperity, would admit of; but their
attentions did not extend to acts of real friendship; for they were too
much occupied by their own pursuits, to feel any interest in his; and
thus he was set down in the midst of Paris, in the pride of youth, with
an open, unsuspicious temper and ardent affections, without one friend,
to warn him of the dangers, to which he was exposed. Emily, who, had
she been present, would have saved him from these evils by awakening
his heart, and engaging him in worthy pursuits, now only increased
his danger;--it was to lose the grief, which the remembrance of her
occasioned, that he first sought amusement; and for this end he pursued
it, till habit made it an object of abstract interest.

There was also a Marchioness Champfort, a young widow, at whose
assemblies he passed much of his time. She was handsome, still more
artful, gay and fond of intrigue. The society, which she drew round her,
was less elegant and more vicious, than that of the Countess Lacleur:
but, as she had address enough to throw a veil, though but a slight
one, over the worst part of her character, she was still visited by many
persons of what is called distinction. Valancourt was introduced to her
parties by two of his brother officers, whose late ridicule he had now
forgiven so far, that he could sometimes join in the laugh, which a
mention of his former manners would renew.

The gaiety of the most splendid court in Europe, the magnificence of
the palaces, entertainments, and equipages, that surrounded him--all
conspired to dazzle his imagination, and re-animate his spirits, and
the example and maxims of his military associates to delude his mind.
Emily's image, indeed, still lived there; but it was no longer the
friend, the monitor, that saved him from himself, and to which he
retired to weep the sweet, yet melancholy, tears of tenderness. When
he had recourse to it, it assumed a countenance of mild reproach, that
wrung his soul, and called forth tears of unmixed misery; his only
escape from which was to forget the object of it, an