The Mysteries of Udolpho

'No doubt you would,' replied Madame Cheron, with a smile of irony, 'and

I shall no doubt consent to this, since I see how necessary tranquillity

and retirement are to restore your spirits. I did not think you capable

of so much duplicity, niece; when you pleaded this excuse for remaining

here, I foolishly believed it to be a just one, nor expected to have

found with you so agreeable a companion as this M. La Val--, I forget

his name.' Emily could no longer endure these cruel indignities. 'It was a just

one, madam,' said she; 'and now, indeed, I feel more than ever the value

of the retirement I then solicited; and, if the purport of your visit

is only to add insult to the sorrows of your brother's child, she could

well have spared it.'

'I see that I have undertaken a very troublesome task,' said Madame

Cheron, colouring highly. 'I am sure, madam,' said Emily mildly, and

endeavouring to restrain her tears, 'I am sure my father did not mean it

should be such. I have the happiness to reflect, that my conduct under

his eye was such as he often delighted to approve. It would be very

painful to me to disobey the sister of such a parent, and, if you

believe the task will really be so troublesome, I must lament, that it

is yours.' 'Well! niece, fine speaking signifies little. I am willing, in

consideration of my poor brother, to overlook the impropriety of your

late conduct, and to try what your future will be.'

Emily interrupted her, to beg she would explain what was the impropriety

she alluded to. 'What impropriety! why that of receiving the visits of a lover unknown

to your family,' replied Madame Cheron, not considering the impropriety

of which she had herself been guilty, in exposing her niece to the

possibility of conduct so erroneous.

A faint blush passed over Emily's countenance; pride and anxiety

struggled in her breast; and, till she recollected, that appearances

did, in some degree, justify her aunt's suspicions, she could not

resolve to humble herself so far as to enter into the defence of a

conduct, which had been so innocent and undesigning on her part. She

mentioned the manner of Valancourt's introduction to her father; the

circumstances of his receiving the pistol-shot, and of their afterwards

travelling together; with the accidental way, in which she had met him,

on the preceding evening. She owned he had declared a partiality for

her, and that he had asked permission to address her family.

'And who is this young adventurer, pray?' said Madame Cheron, 'and what

are his pretensions?' 'These he must himself explain, madam,' replied

Emily. 'Of his family my father was not ignorant, and I believe it is

unexceptionable.' She then proceeded to mention what she knew concerning

it. 'Oh, then, this it seems is a younger brother,' exclaimed her aunt, 'and

of course a beggar. A very fine tale indeed! And so my brother took a

fancy to this young man after only a few days acquaintance!--but that

was so like him! In his youth he was always taking these likes and

dislikes, when no other person saw any reason for them at all; nay,

indeed, I have often thought the people he disapproved were much more

agreeable than those he admired;--but there is no accounting for tastes.

He was always so much influenced by people's countenances; now I, for my

part, have no notion of this, it is all ridiculous enthusiasm. What has

a man's face to do with his character? Can a man of good character

help having a disagreeable face?'--which last sentence Madame Cheron

delivered with the decisive air of a person who congratulates herself

on having made a grand discovery, and believes the question to be

unanswerably settled.