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Updated: June 2, 2025
Montenero had patience with me, and supplied the elisions in my rhetoric, by what information he could pick up from the guide, and from Mowbray, with whom, from time to time, he stopped to see and hear, after I had passed on with Berenice. To her quickness and sympathy I flattered myself that I was always intelligible.
Montenero was announced, and I blessed my mother, my father, and the malt- tax, for having detained me at home. The first appearance of Mr. Montenero more than answered my expectations. He had that indescribable air, which, independently of the fashion of the day, or the mode of any particular country, distinguishes a gentleman dignified, courteous, and free from affectation.
This was the moment, he said, before Miss Montenero should appear in public, and get into the whirl of the great world, before engagements should multiply and press upon her, as inevitably they would as soon as she had made her debut this was the moment, and the only moment probably she would ever have to herself, to see all that was worth a stranger's notice in London. Mr.
Montenero appeared was an impartial and very patient man: I shall not so far try the patience of others as to record all that was positively said, but which could not be sworn to all that was offered in evidence, but which contradicted itself, or which could not be substantiated by any good witness at length one creditable-looking man came forward against Mr. Montenero.
I was inspired and encouraged by the approbation of the father, and the sympathy of the daughter. As we were quitting the Abbey, Mr. Montenero stopped, turned to me, and said, "You have a great deal of enthusiasm, I see, Mr. Harrington: so much the better, in my opinion I love generous enthusiasm."
Montenero, who is a foreigner, and a stranger to the house, has done so and so, and we trust our old friends will do as much Mr. Harrington in particular. There's our books on the table, open to Mr. Harrington he will see we shall be provided on the fifteenth instant; but, in short, if Mr.
Montenero might be, whether it was hatred to him as being the patron of Jacob, whom Dutton envied and detested, or whether Dutton was instigated by some other and higher person, I shall not now stop to inquire. As he had not been put upon his oath, he had not been guilty of perjury; he was discharged amidst the hootings of the mob.
Montenero was well acquainted, and of whom he was enthusiastically fond. My mother was fond of painting: I asked some questions concerning the Spanish painters, particularly about Murillo; of one of his pictures we had a copy, and my mother had often wished to see the original. Mr. Montenero said he was happy in having it in his power to gratify her wish; he possessed the original of this picture.
I cannot remember exactly the words, but what I said was to this effect. "Mr. Montenero, you know so much of the human heart, and of my heart, that you must be aware of the cause of my present embarrassment and emotion. You must have seen my passion for your incomparable daughter." "I have seen it, I own I am well aware of it, Mr. Harrington," replied Mr.
"There is no priest here there are no papists here: two protestant ladies, strangers to me, have taken refuge here, and I will not give them up," said Mr. Montenero. "Then we'll pull down the house." "The military will be here directly," said Mr. Montenero, coolly; "you had better go away." "The military! then make haste, boys, with the work."
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