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The Mysteries of Udolpho

Page 104

I leave that flowery path for eye

Of childhood, where I sported many a day,

Warbling and sauntering carelessly along;

Where every face was innocent and gay,

Each vale romantic, tuneful every tongue,

Sweet, wild, and artless all.

THE MINSTREL

At an early hour, the carriage, which was to take Emily and Madame

Cheron to Tholouse, appeared at the door of the chateau, and Madame was

already in the breakfast-room, when her niece entered it. The repast

was silent and melancholy on the part of Emily; and Madame Cheron, whose

vanity was piqued on observing her dejection, reproved her in a manner

that did not contribute to remove it. It was with much reluctance, that

Emily's request to take with her the dog, which had been a favourite

of her father, was granted. Her aunt, impatient to be gone, ordered the

carriage to draw up; and, while she passed to the hall door, Emily gave

another look into the library, and another farewell glance over the

garden, and then followed.

Old Theresa stood at the door to take leave

of her young lady. 'God for ever keep you, ma'amselle!' said she, while

Emily gave her hand in silence, and could answer only with a pressure of

her hand, and a forced smile.

At the gate, which led out of the grounds, several of her father's

pensioners were assembled to bid her farewell, to whom she would have

spoken, if her aunt would have suffered the driver to stop; and, having

distributed to them almost all the money she had about her, she sunk

back in the carriage, yielding to the melancholy of her heart. Soon

after, she caught, between the steep banks of the road, another view of

the chateau, peeping from among the high trees, and surrounded by green

slopes and tufted groves, the Garonne winding its way beneath their

shades, sometimes lost among the vineyards, and then rising in greater

majesty in the distant pastures.

The towering precipices of the

Pyrenees, that rose to the south, gave Emily a thousand interesting

recollections of her late journey; and these objects of her former

enthusiastic admiration, now excited only sorrow and regret. Having

gazed on the chateau and its lovely scenery, till the banks again closed

upon them, her mind became too much occupied by mournful reflections, to

permit her to attend to the conversation, which Madame Cheron had begun

on some trivial topic, so that they soon travelled in profound silence.

Valancourt, mean while, was returned to Estuviere, his heart occupied

with the image of Emily; sometimes indulging in reveries of future

happiness, but more frequently shrinking with dread of the opposition

he might encounter from her family. He was the younger son of an ancient

family of Gascony; and, having lost his parents at an early period

of his life, the care of his education and of his small portion had

devolved to his brother, the Count de Duvarney, his senior by nearly

twenty years. Valancourt had been educated in all the accomplishments

of his age, and had an ardour of spirit, and a certain grandeur of

mind, that gave him particular excellence in the exercises then thought

heroic.

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