The Mysteries of Udolpho

'His family was known to my father,' said Emily modestly, and without

appearing to be sensible of the last sentence.

'O! that is no recommendation at all,' replied her aunt, with her usual

readiness upon this topic; 'he took such strange fancies to people! He

was always judging persons by their countenances, and was continually

deceived.' 'Yet it was but now, madam, that you judged me guilty by my

countenance,' said Emily, with a design of reproving Madame Cheron, to

which she was induced by this disrespectful mention of her father.

'I called you here,' resumed her aunt, colouring, 'to tell you, that

I will not be disturbed in my own house by any letters, or visits from

young men, who may take a fancy to flatter you. This M. de Valantine--I

think you call him, has the impertinence to beg I will permit him to

pay his respects to me! I shall send him a proper answer. And for you,

Emily, I repeat it once for all--if you are not contented to conform

to my directions, and to my way of live, I shall give up the task of

overlooking your conduct--I shall no longer trouble myself with your

education, but shall send you to board in a convent.'

'Dear madam,' said Emily, bursting into tears, and overcome by the rude

suspicions her aunt had expressed, 'how have I deserved these reproofs?'

She could say no more; and so very fearful was she of acting with any

degree of impropriety in the affair itself, that, at the present moment,

Madame Cheron might perhaps have prevailed with her to bind herself by

a promise to renounce Valancourt for ever. Her mind, weakened by her

terrors, would no longer suffer her to view him as she had formerly

done; she feared the error of her own judgment, not that of Madame

Cheron, and feared also, that, in her former conversation with him, at

La Vallee, she had not conducted herself with sufficient reserve. She

knew, that she did not deserve the coarse suspicions, which her aunt had

thrown out, but a thousand scruples rose to torment her, such as would

never have disturbed the peace of Madame Cheron. Thus rendered anxious

to avoid every opportunity of erring, and willing to submit to any

restrictions, that her aunt should think proper, she expressed an

obedience, to which Madame Cheron did not give much confidence, and

which she seemed to consider as the consequence of either fear, or

artifice. 'Well, then,' said she, 'promise me that you will neither see this young

man, nor write to him without my consent.' 'Dear madam,' replied Emily,

'can you suppose I would do either, unknown to you!' 'I don't know

what to suppose; there is no knowing how young women will act. It is

difficult to place any confidence in them, for they have seldom sense

enough to wish for the respect of the world.'