_In Which Mr. Temple and His Daughter, with Their New
Friend, Make an Unexpected Excursion_.
ONE delicious morning, remarkable even in the south, Lord Montfort called upon them in his carriage, and proposed a little excursion. Mr. Temple looked at his daughter, and was charmed that Henrietta consented. She rose from her seat, indeed, with unwonted animation, and the three friends had soon quitted the city and entered its agreeable environs.
‘It was wise to pass the winter in Italy,’ said Lord Montfort, ‘but to see Tuscany in perfection I should choose the autumn. I know nothing more picturesque than the carts laden with grapes, and drawn by milk-white steers.’
They drove gaily along at the foot of green hills, crowned ever and anon by a convent or a beautiful stone-pine. The landscape attracted the admiration of Miss Temple. A palladian villa rose from the bosom of a gentle elevation, crowned with these picturesque trees. A broad terrace of marble extended in front of the villa, on which were ranged orange trees. On either side spread an olive-grove. The sky was without a cloud, and deeply blue; bright beams of the sun illuminated the building. The road had wound so curiously into this last branch of the Apennines, that the party found themselves in a circus of hills, clothed with Spanish chestnuts and olive trees, from which there was apparently no outlet. A soft breeze, which it was evident had passed over the wild flowers of the mountains, refreshed and charmed their senses.
‘Could you believe we were only two hours’ drive from a city?’ said Lord Montfort.
‘Indeed,’ said Henrietta, ‘if there be peace in this world, one would think that the dweller in that beautiful villa enjoyed it.’
‘He has little to disturb him,’ said Lord Montfort: ‘thanks to his destiny and his temper.’
‘I believe we make our miseries,’ said Henrietta, with a sigh. ‘After all, nature always offers us consolation. But who lives here?’
‘I sometimes steal to this spot,’ replied his lordship.
‘Oh! this, then, is your villa? Ah! you have surprised us!’
‘I only aimed to amuse you.’
‘You are very kind, Lord Montfort,’ said Mr. Temple; ‘and we owe you much.’
They stopped, they ascended the terrace, they entered the villa. A few rooms only were furnished, but their appearance indicated the taste and pursuits of its occupier. Busts and books were scattered about; a table was covered with the implements of art; and the principal apartment opened into an English garden.
‘This is one of my native tastes,’ said Lord Montfort, ‘that will, I think, never desert me.’
The memory of Henrietta was recalled to the flowers of Ducie and of Armine. Amid all the sweets and sunshine she looked sad. She walked away from her companions; she seated herself on the terrace; her eyes were suffused with tears. Lord Montfort took the arm of Mr. Temple, and led him away to a bust of Germanicus.
‘Let me show it to Henrietta,’ said Mr. Temple; ‘I must fetch her.’
Lord Montfort laid his hand gently on his companion. The emotion of Henrietta had not escaped his quick eye.
‘Miss Temple has made a great exertion,’ he said. ‘Do not think me pedantic, but I am something of a physician. I have long perceived that, although Miss Temple should be amused, she must sometimes be left alone.’
Mr. Temple looked at his companion, but the countenance of Lord Montfort was inscrutable. His lordship offered him a medal and then opened a portfolio of Marc Antonios.
‘These are very rare,’ said Lord Montfort; ‘I bring them into the country with me, for really at Rome there is no time to study them. By-the-bye, I have a plan,’ continued his lordship, in a somewhat hesitating tone; ‘I wish I could induce you and Miss Temple to visit me at Rome.’
Mr. Temple shrugged his shoulders, and sighed.
‘I feel confident that a residence at Rome would benefit Miss Temple,’ said his lordship, in a voice a little less calm than usual. ‘There is much to see, and I would take care that she should see it in a manner which would not exhaust her. It is the most delightful climate, too, at this period. The sun shines here to-day, but the air of these hills at this season is sometimes treacherous. A calm life, with a variety of objects, is what she requires. Pisa is calm, but for her it is too dull. Believe me, there is something in the blended refinement and interest of Rome that she would find exceedingly beneficial. She would see no one but ourselves; society shall be at her command if she desire it.’
‘My dear lord,’ said Mr. Temple, ‘I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your considerate sympathy; but I cannot flatter myself that Henrietta could avail herself of your really friendly offer. My daughter is a great invalid. She------’
But here Miss Temple joined them.
‘We have a relic of a delicate temple here,’ said Lord Montfort, directing her gaze to another window. ‘You see it now to advantage; the columns glitter in the sun. There, perhaps, was worshipped some wood-nymph, or some river-god.’
The first classic ruin that she had yet beheld attracted the attention of Miss Temple. It was not far, and she acceded to the proposition of Lord Montfort to visit it. That little ramble was delightful. The novelty and the beauty of the object greatly interested her. It was charming also to view it under the auspices of a guide so full of information and feeling.
‘Ah!’ said Lord Montfort, ‘if I might only be your cicerone at Rome!’
‘What say you, Henrietta?’ said Mr. Temple, with a smile. ‘Shall we go to Rome?’
The proposition did not alarm Miss Temple as much as her father anticipated. Lord Montfort pressed the suggestion with delicacy; he hinted at some expedients by which the journey might be rendered not very laborious. But as she did not reply, his lordship did not press the subject; sufficiently pleased, perhaps, that she had not met it with an immediate and decided negative.
When they returned to the villa they found a collation prepared for them worthy of so elegant an abode. In his capacity of a host, Lord Montfort departed a little from that placid and even constrained demeanour which generally characterised him. His manner was gay and flowing; and he poured out a goblet of Monte Pulciano and presented it to Miss Temple.
‘You must pour a libation,’ he said, ‘to the nymph of the fane.’
