The Mysteries of Udolpho

When she turned from the casement, her eyes glanced upon the door she

had so carefully guarded, on the preceding night, and she now determined

to examine whither it led; but, on advancing to remove the chairs,

she perceived, that they were already moved a little way. Her surprise

cannot be easily imagined, when, in the next minute, she perceived that

the door was fastened.--She felt, as if she had seen an apparition. The

door of the corridor was locked as she had left it, but this door, which

could be secured only on the outside, must have been bolted, during the

night. She became seriously uneasy at the thought of sleeping again in

a chamber, thus liable to intrusion, so remote, too, as it was from

the family, and she determined to mention the circumstance to Madame

Montoni, and to request a change.

After some perplexity she found her way into the great hall, and to the

room, which she had left, on the preceding night, where breakfast was

spread, and her aunt was alone, for Montoni had been walking over the

environs of the castle, examining the condition of its fortifications,

and talking for some time with Carlo. Emily observed that her aunt had

been weeping, and her heart softened towards her, with an affection,

that shewed itself in her manner, rather than in words, while she

carefully avoided the appearance of having noticed, that she was

unhappy. She seized the opportunity of Montoni's absence to mention the

circumstance of the door, to request that she might be allowed another

apartment, and to enquire again, concerning the occasion of their

sudden journey. On the first subject her aunt referred her to Montoni,

positively refusing to interfere in the affair; on the last, she

professed utter ignorance.

Emily, then, with a wish of making her aunt more reconciled to her

situation, praised the grandeur of the castle and the surrounding

scenery, and endeavoured to soften every unpleasing circumstance

attending it. But, though misfortune had somewhat conquered the

asperities of Madame Montoni's temper, and, by increasing her cares

for herself, had taught her to feel in some degree for others, the

capricious love of rule, which nature had planted and habit had

nourished in her heart, was not subdued. She could not now deny herself

the gratification of tyrannizing over the innocent and helpless Emily,

by attempting to ridicule the taste she could not feel.

Her satirical discourse was, however, interrupted by the entrance of

Montoni, and her countenance immediately assumed a mingled expression of

fear and resentment, while he seated himself at the breakfast-table, as

if unconscious of there being any person but himself in the room.