The Mysteries of Udolpho

'This is an instance of female caprice,' said he, 'which I ought to have

foreseen. Count Morano, whose suit you obstinately rejected, so long as

it was countenanced by me, you favour, it seems, since you find I have

dismissed him.' Emily looked astonished. 'I do not comprehend you, sir,' said she: 'You

certainly do not mean to imply, that the design of the Count to visit

the double-chamber, was founded upon any approbation of mine.'

'To that I reply nothing,' said Montoni; 'but it must certainly be a

more than common interest, that made you plead so warmly in his cause,

and that could detain you thus long in his presence, contrary to my

express order--in the presence of a man, whom you have hitherto, on all

occasions, most scrupulously shunned!' 'I fear, sir, it was a more than common interest, that detained me,'

said Emily calmly; 'for of late I have been inclined to think, that of

compassion is an uncommon one. But how could I, could YOU, sir, witness

Count Morano's deplorable condition, and not wish to relieve it?'

'You add hypocrisy to caprice,' said Montoni, frowning, 'and an attempt

at satire, to both; but, before you undertake to regulate the morals

of other persons, you should learn and practise the virtues, which

are indispensable to a woman--sincerity, uniformity of conduct and

obedience.' Emily, who had always endeavoured to regulate her conduct by the nicest

laws, and whose mind was finely sensible, not only of what is just

in morals, but of whatever is beautiful in the female character, was

shocked by these words; yet, in the next moment, her heart swelled with

the consciousness of having deserved praise, instead of censure, and she

was proudly silent.

Montoni, acquainted with the delicacy of her mind,

knew how keenly she would feel his rebuke; but he was a stranger to the

luxury of conscious worth, and, therefore, did not foresee the energy of

that sentiment, which now repelled his satire. Turning to a servant who

had lately entered the room, he asked whether Morano had quitted the

castle. The man answered, that his servants were then removing him, on

a couch, to a neighbouring cottage. Montoni seemed somewhat appeased,

on hearing this; and, when Ludovico appeared, a few moments after,

and said, that Morano was gone, he told Emily she might retire to her

apartment. She withdrew willingly from his presence; but the thought of passing the

remainder of the night in a chamber, which the door from the stair-case

made liable to the intrusion of any person, now alarmed her more than

ever, and she determined to call at Madame Montoni's room, and request,

that Annette might be permitted to be with her.