The Mysteries of Udolpho

Emily was silent, and he left the room.

Recollecting, that it was for Valancourt's sake she had thus resisted,

she now smiled complacently upon the threatened sufferings, and retired

to the spot, which her aunt had pointed out as the repository of the

papers, relative to the estates, where she found them as described; and,

since she knew of no better place of concealment, than this, returned

them, without examining their contents, being fearful of discovery,

while she should attempt a perusal.

To her own solitary chamber she once more returned, and there thought

again of the late conversation with Montoni, and of the evil she might

expect from opposition to his will. But his power did not appear so

terrible to her imagination, as it was wont to do: a sacred pride was

in her heart, that taught it to swell against the pressure of injustice,

and almost to glory in the quiet sufferance of ills, in a cause, which

had also the interest of Valancourt for its object. For the first time,

she felt the full extent of her own superiority to Montoni, and despised

the authority, which, till now, she had only feared.

As she sat musing, a peal of laughter rose from the terrace, and, on

going to the casement, she saw, with inexpressible surprise, three

ladies, dressed in the gala habit of Venice, walking with several

gentlemen below. She gazed in an astonishment that made her remain at

the window, regardless of being observed, till the group passed under

it; and, one of the strangers looking up, she perceived the features of

Signora Livona, with whose manners she had been so much charmed, the day

after her arrival at Venice, and who had been there introduced at the

table of Montoni.

This discovery occasioned her an emotion of doubtful

joy; for it was matter of joy and comfort to know, that a person, of a

mind so gentle, as that of Signora Livona seemed to be, was near her;

yet there was something so extraordinary in her being at this castle,

circumstanced as it now was, and evidently, by the gaiety of her air,

with her own consent, that a very painful surmise arose, concerning her

character. But the thought was so shocking to Emily, whose affection the

fascinating manners of the Signora had won, and appeared so improbable,

when she remembered these manners, that she dismissed it almost

instantly. On Annette's appearance, however, she enquired, concerning these

strangers; and the former was as eager to tell, as Emily was to learn.

'They are just come, ma'amselle,' said Annette, 'with two Signors from

Venice, and I was glad to see such Christian faces once again.--But

what can they mean by coming here? They must surely be stark mad to come

freely to such a place as this! Yet they do come freely, for they seem

merry enough, I am sure.'