The Mysteries of Udolpho

Madame Cheron, whether she had seen a rival admired, had lost at play,

or had witnessed an entertainment more splendid than her own, was

returned from her visit with a temper more than usually discomposed; and

Emily was glad, when the hour arrived, in which she could retire to the

solitude of her own apartment.

On the following morning, she was summoned to Madame Cheron, whose

countenance was inflamed with resentment, and, as Emily advanced, she

held out a letter to her. 'Do you know this hand?' said she, in a severe tone, and with a look

that was intended to search her heart, while Emily examined the letter

attentively, and assured her, that she did not.

'Do not provoke me,' said her aunt; 'you do know it, confess the truth

immediately. I insist upon your confessing the truth instantly.'

Emily was silent, and turned to leave the room, but Madame called her

back. 'O you are guilty, then,' said she, 'you do know the hand.' 'If

you was before in doubt of this, madam,' replied Emily calmly, 'why did

you accuse me of having told a falsehood.' Madame Cheron did not

blush; but her niece did, a moment after, when she heard the name of

Valancourt. It was not, however, with the consciousness of deserving

reproof, for, if she ever had seen his hand-writing, the present

characters did not bring it to her recollection.

'It is useless to deny it,' said Madame Cheron, 'I see in your

countenance, that you are no stranger to this letter; and, I dare say,

you have received many such from this impertinent young man, without my

knowledge, in my own house.'

Emily, shocked at the indelicacy of this accusation, still more than

by the vulgarity of the former, instantly forgot the pride, that

had imposed silence, and endeavoured to vindicate herself from the

aspersion, but Madame Cheron was not to be convinced.

'I cannot suppose,' she resumed, 'that this young man would have taken

the liberty of writing to me, if you had not encouraged him to do so,

and I must now'--'You will allow me to remind you, madam,' said Emily

timidly, 'of some particulars of a conversation we had at La Vallee.

I then told you truly, that I had only not forbade Monsieur Valancourt

from addressing my family.'

'I will not be interrupted,' said Madame Cheron, interrupting her niece,

'I was going to say--I--I-have forgot what I was going to say. But

how happened it that you did not forbid him?' Emily was silent. 'How

happened it that you encouraged him to trouble me with this letter?--A

young man that nobody knows;--an utter stranger in the place,--a young

adventurer, no doubt, who is looking out for a good fortune. However, on

that point he has mistaken his aim.'