The Mysteries of Udolpho

But it was now evident with how little respect M. Quesnel

had regarded these objections, and how insignificant he considered every

obstacle to pecuniary advantage. It appeared, also, that he had not even

condescended to inform Montoni of the step he had taken, since no motive

was evident for Montoni's concealing the circumstance from her, if it

had been made known to him: this both displeased and surprised her; but

the chief subjects of her uneasiness were--the temporary disposal of

La Vallee, and the dismission of her father's old and faithful

servant.--'Poor Theresa,' said Emily, 'thou hadst not saved much in thy

servitude, for thou wast always tender towards the poor, and believd'st

thou shouldst die in the family, where thy best years had been spent.

Poor Theresa!--now thou art turned out in thy old age to seek thy

bread!' Emily wept bitterly as these thoughts passed over her mind, and she

determined to consider what could be done for Theresa, and to talk very

explicitly to M. Quesnel on the subject; but she much feared that his

cold heart could feel only for itself. She determined also to enquire

whether he had made any mention of her affairs, in his letter to

Montoni, who soon gave her the opportunity she sought, by desiring

that she would attend him in his study. She had little doubt, that the

interview was intended for the purpose of communicating to her a part

of M. Quesnel's letter concerning the transactions at La Vallee, and she

obeyed him immediately. Montoni was alone.

'I have just been writing to Mons. Quesnel,' said he when Emily

appeared, 'in reply to the letter I received from him a few days ago,

and I wished to talk to you upon a subject that occupied part of it.'

'I also wished to speak with you on this topic, sir,' said Emily.

'It is a subject of some interest to you, undoubtedly,' rejoined

Montoni, 'and I think you must see it in the light that I do; indeed

it will not bear any other. I trust you will agree with me, that any

objection founded on sentiment, as they call it, ought to yield to

circumstances of solid advantage.'

'Granting this, sir,' replied Emily, modestly, 'those of humanity ought

surely to be attended to. But I fear it is now too late to deliberate

upon this plan, and I must regret, that it is no longer in my power to

reject it.' 'It is too late,' said Montoni; 'but since it is so, I am pleased to

observe, that you submit to reason and necessity without indulging

useless complaint. I applaud this conduct exceedingly, the more,

perhaps, since it discovers a strength of mind seldom observable in your

sex. When you are older you will look back with gratitude to the friends

who assisted in rescuing you from the romantic illusions of sentiment,

and will perceive, that they are only the snares of childhood, and

should be vanquished the moment you escape from the nursery. I have not

closed my letter, and you may add a few lines to inform your uncle of

your acquiescence. You will soon see him, for it is my intention to take

you, with Madame Montoni, in a few days to Miarenti, and you can then

talk over the affair.'