swe ae eee 
620 
hibit grief: he had passed the night mo- 
tionless in the same attitude; fis hate 
was in disorder, gad he -really looked re- 
markably handsome.” 
_ Even the last pathetic scene in the 
ison is disgraced by littleness. We 
shall, however, present our readers with 
a scene with which we were much 
pleased. 
«Yesterday, Madame de Mondoville being 
absent, I was able to spend the whole day at 
Bellerive ; Madame d’Albémar proposed to 
mea walk after dinner, telling me that a fa- 
mily from Langueduc, whose name: she be- 
lieved she knew, had come to live in her 
neighbourhood, and that she wished to go 
and enquire about them. We set off, and 
Madame d’Albémar appointed her carriage to 
meet us about a mile trom Bellerive. 
«« When we came near the place she had 
pointed out, we saw at a distance a small but 
neat cottage, and heard voices and instru- 
ments, which appeared singularly harmoni- 
ous. Wedrew near; achild, who was at 
the door making snow balls, asked us to walk 
in; his mother, bearing him, came out and 
met us; Madame d°Albémar immediately 
knew her to be Mademoiselle de Senanges, 
whom she had formerly met in company with 
M. d’Albémar, but whom she had not seen 
these ten years. Mademoiselle de Senanges, 
now Madame de Belmont, received Delphine 
in the most. amiable and friendly manner. 
. We followed her into the lite apartment 
of which she made a drawing-room, and we 
there saw a man about thirty, sitting at a 
tano-forte, while a girl of eight was singing: 
fre arose at our approach; when his wife went 
up to him, and gave him her arm to lead 
him towards us... We then perceived he was 
blind, but his countenance was pleasing and 
dignified, notwithstanding his loss of sight : 
an expression of tranquillity reigned, in all his 
features, which silenced even pity. 
“Delphine, whose heart 1s so accessible 
to kind emotions, was visibly affected, not- 
withstanding her éndeavours to conceal it. 
She asked Madame de Belmont her motives 
for leaving Languedoc.—A law-suit, which 
was carried against us, she answered, ruined 
us entirely ; I had before lost half my for- 
tune,-as an aunt disinherited me on account 
of my marriage. ‘To support ourselves and 
two children we had only eight pounds a year 
left, and’ we chose rather to live in a country 
where we were unknown, than be obliged to 
ktep up our former way of hife without a for- 
tune. This climate too agrees better with 
ray husband’s health than the heats of the 
south, and during the fortnight we have been, 
here we have been perfectly well. 
“«M. de Belmont then congratulated him- 
self on knowing such a person as Madame 
@ Albémar ; he expressed himself with much 
‘propriety and elegance, and his wife recalling 
to mind with pleasure, that she had. seen, 
ROMANCES AND NOVELS. 
Oa I ae 
Madame d*Albémar when but a child at her« 
father’s, spoke to her of their common con- — 
nections with perfect serenity and simplicity. - 
I considered her attentively, and in her whole 
manner I perceived not the least trace of any 
uneasiness ; she appeared not to suspect that 
there was any thing in her situation to excite 
any. extraordinary concern, and was long be-" 
fore she perceived that which we felt on her 
account. * 
«* Her husband was desirous. of showing 
us his garden, and he offered his wife his arm 
to lead him thither: she appeared to be 
so much in the habit of leading him, that 
when she left hitn to Delphine for a few mo- 
ments to give some directions, she walked 
with anxiety, and appeared—not uneasy, for 
she has too little affectation to be disturbed’ 
without any ‘motive—but altogether unuc~ 
customed to move a step without serving as a 
guide to her husband. 
«*M. de Belmont interested us every in- 
stant still more by his wit and understand- 
ing; we led him several times to talk of his 
occupations, and of his own concerns ; he 
always answered us: with pleasure, appearing 
completely to forget that he was ruined. and 
blind, ‘and giving us the idea of a happy and 
tranquil man, who has never in his life had 
the least occasion to exercise courage or even 
resignation, only when he pronounced the 
name of his wie, or called her his dear friend, 
his voice had a tone J cannot define, but 
which echoed all the remembrances of his 
life, and pointed them out to us without ex- 
pressing them. 
“We returned to the house, the piano- 
forte was still open, and Delphine expressed 
to M.and Madame de Beluyont a wish to: 
hear, while present, the» musie that had 
charmed our ears ata distance. ‘To this they 
assented, observing, that as they almost al~ 
ways sung trios, with their daughter, their 
performance would-be verysumple. ‘Lhe fa- 
ther began a. prelude on the instrament with 
superior talents and profound. fecling. £ 
know nothing so affecting as a blind man 
who gives himself up to the inspiration. of 
music; it seemed as if the variety of sounds, 
and of the impressions thence. arising, re- 
stored to him all nature, of whieh he had 
been deprived. The timidity naturally inse- 
parable from such a disastrous infirmity pre= 
vents a man from conyersing with others on 
the pain he feels, and he almost always 
avoids speaking of it; but when a blind: man 
pmys a melancholy tune he seems disclosing 
the secret of his sorrows:; he rejoices at hav- 
ing at length, found a Janguage which per- 
mits him to, touch the heart without fear of 
tiring it. : 
««’Phe fine eyes of Delphine swam in tears, 
and I saw by the agitation of her bosom how: 
much her heaxt was moved!) But when M.* 
de Belmont and his wife sang together, and. 
their daughter, eight years of age, joined her 
clear and infantine voice with those of her 
parents, it-was, irresistible“ “Phey gave us & 
