The Mysteries of Udolpho

Somewhat soothed by the consciousness of performing a part of St.

Aubert's last request, and of endeavouring to pursue the conduct which

he would have approved, she overcame her tears, and, when the company

met at dinner, had recovered her usual serenity of countenance.

In the cool of the evening, the ladies took the FRESCO along the bank of

the Brenta in Madame Quesnel's carriage. The state of Emily's mind was

in melancholy contrast with the gay groups assembled beneath the shades

that overhung this enchanting stream. Some were dancing under the trees,

and others reclining on the grass, taking ices and coffee and calmly

enjoying the effect of a beautiful evening, on a luxuriant landscape.

Emily, when she looked at the snow-capt Apennines, ascending in the

distance, thought of Montoni's castle, and suffered some terror, lest he

should convey her thither, for the purpose of enforcing her obedience;

but the thought vanished, when she considered, that she was as much in

his power at Venice as she could be elsewhere.

It was moonlight before the party returned to the villa, where supper

was spread in the airy hall, which had so much enchanted Emily's fancy,

on the preceding night. The ladies seated themselves in the portico,

till Mons. Quesnel, Montoni, and other gentlemen should join them at

table, and Emily endeavoured to resign herself to the tranquillity of

the hour. Presently, a barge stopped at the steps that led into the

gardens, and, soon after, she distinguished the voices of Montoni and

Quesnel, and then that of Morano, who, in the next moment, appeared. His

compliments she received in silence, and her cold air seemed at first to

discompose him; but he soon recovered his usual gaiety of manner,

though the officious kindness of M. and Madame Quesnel Emily perceived

disgusted him. Such a degree of attention she had scarcely believed

could be shewn by M. Quesnel, for she had never before seen him

otherwise than in the presence of his inferiors or equals.

When she could retire to her own apartment, her mind almost

involuntarily dwelt on the most probable means of prevailing with the

Count to withdraw his suit, and to her liberal mind none appeared more

probable, than that of acknowledging to him a prior attachment and

throwing herself upon his generosity for a release. When, however,

on the following day, he renewed his addresses, she shrunk from the

adoption of the plan she had formed. There was something so repugnant to

her just pride, in laying open the secret of her heart to such a man

as Morano, and in suing to him for compassion, that she impatiently

rejected this design and wondered, that she could have paused upon

it for a moment. The rejection of his suit she repeated in the most

decisive terms she could select, mingling with it a severe censure

of his conduct; but, though the Count appeared mortified by this, he

persevered in the most ardent professions of admiration, till he was

interrupted and Emily released by the presence of Madame Quesnel.