We accepted the invitation; Mowbray waited for to-morrow with all the eagerness of curiosity, and I with the eagerness of a still more impatient passion. I pass over my mother’s remonstrances against my _dining at the Monteneros’;_ remonstrances, strengthened as they were in vehemence, if not in reason, by all the accession of force gathered from the representations and insinuations of Mrs. Coates. The next day came. “Now we shall hear about the dentition of the Jew,” said Mowbray, as we got to Mr. Montenero’s door. And now we shall see Berenice! thought I. We found a very agreeable company assembled, mixed of English and foreigners. There was the Spanish ambassador and the Russian envoy--who, by-the-by, spoke English better than any foreigner I ever heard; a Polish Count, perfectly well bred, and his lady, a beautiful woman, with whom Mowbray of course was half in love before dinner was over. The only English present were General and Lady Emily B----. We soon learned, by the course of the conversation, that Mr. Montenero stood high in the estimation of every individual in the company, all of whom had known him intimately at different times of his life, and in different countries. The general had served in America during the beginning of the war; he had been wounded there, and in great difficulties and distress. He and his lady, under very trying circumstances, had been treated in the most kind and hospitable manner by Mr. Montenero and his family. With that true English warmth of gratitude, which contrasts so strongly and agreeably with the natural reserve of English manner and habits, the general and his wife, Lady Emily, expressed their joy at having Mr. Montenero in England, in London, among their own friends. “My dear, Mr. Montenero must let us introduce him to your brother and our other friends--how delighted they will be to see him! And Berenice!--she was such a little creature, General, at the time you saw her last!--but such a kind, sweet, little creature!--You remember her scraping the lint!” “Remember it! certainly.” They spoke of her, and looked at her, as if she was their own child; and for my part, I could have embraced both the old general and his wife. I only wished that my mother had been present to receive an antidote to Mrs. Coates. “Oh! please Heaven, we will make London--we’ll make England agreeable to you--two years! no; that won’t do--we will keep you with us for ever--you shall never go back to America.” Then, in a low voice, to Mr. Montenero, the general added, “Do you think we have not an Englishman good enough for her?”