a dying father.

Emily could not look at these presents, and made a last, though almost
hopeless, effort to interest the compassion of Madame Montoni, who, if
she did feel any degree of pity, or remorse, successfully concealed it,
and reproached her niece with folly in being miserable, concerning a
marriage, which ought only to make her happy. 'I am sure,' said she, 'if
I was unmarried, and the Count had proposed to me, I should have been
flattered by the distinction: and if I should have been so, I am sure,
niece, you, who have no fortune, ought to feel yourself highly honoured,
and shew a proper gratitude and humility towards the Count, for his
condescension. I am often surprised, I must own, to observe how humbly
he deports himself to you, notwithstanding the haughty airs you give
yourself; I wonder he has patience to humour you so: if I was he,
I know, I should often be ready to reprehend you, and make you know
yourself a little better. I would not have flattered you, I can tell
you, for it is this absurd flattery that makes you fancy yourself of
so much consequence, that you think nobody can deserve you, and I often
tell the Count so, for I have no patience to hear him pay you such
extravagant compliments, which you believe every word of!'

'Your patience, madam, cannot suffer more cruelly on such occasions,
than my own,' said Emily.

'O! that is all mere affectation,' rejoined her aunt. 'I know that his
flattery delights you, and makes you so vain, that you think you may
have the whole world at your feet. But you are very much mistaken; I
can assure you, niece, you will not meet with many such suitors as the
Count: every other person would have turned upon his heel, and left you
to repent at your leisure, long ago.'

'O that the Count had resembled every other person, then!' said Emily,
with a heavy sigh.

'It is happy for you, that he does not,' rejoined Madame Montoni;
'and what I am now saying is from pure kindness. I am endeavouring to
convince you of your good fortune, and to persuade you to submit to
necessity with a good grace. It is nothing to me, you know, whether you
like this marriage or not, for it must be; what I say, therefore, is
from pure kindness. I wish to see you happy, and it is your own fault if
you are not so. I would ask you, now, seriously and calmly, what kind of
a match you can expect, since a Count cannot content your ambition?'

'I have no ambition whatever, madam,' replied Emily