The Mysteries of Udolpho

'O Signora! there is no danger of that,' replied Maddelina, 'my mother

cannot miss the fruit, for I saved it from my own supper. You will make

me very unhappy, if you refuse to take it, Signora.' Emily was so

much affected by this instance of the good girl's generosity, that she

remained for some time unable to reply, and Maddelina watched her in

silence, till, mistaking the cause of her emotion, she said, 'Do not

weep so, Signora! My mother, to be sure, is a little cross, sometimes,

but then it is soon over,--so don't take it so much to heart. She often

scolds me, too, but then I have learned to bear it, and, when she has

done, if I can but steal out into the woods, and play upon my sticcado,

I forget it all directly.'

Emily, smiling through her tears, told Maddelina, that she was a good

girl, and then accepted her offering. She wished anxiously to know,

whether Bertrand and Dorina had spoken of Montoni, or of his designs,

concerning herself, in the presence of Maddelina, but disdained to tempt

the innocent girl to a conduct so mean, as that of betraying the private

conversations of her parents. When she was departing, Emily requested,

that she would come to her room as often as she dared, without offending

her mother, and Maddelina, after promising that she would do so, stole

softly back again to her own chamber.

Thus several days passed, during which Emily remained in her own room,

Maddelina attending her only at her repast, whose gentle countenance and

manners soothed her more than any circumstance she had known for many

months. Of her pleasant embowered chamber she now became fond, and

began to experience in it those feelings of security, which we naturally

attach to home. In this interval also, her mind, having been undisturbed

by any new circumstance of disgust, or alarm, recovered its tone

sufficiently to permit her the enjoyment of her books, among which she

found some unfinished sketches of landscapes, several blank sheets of

paper, with her drawing instruments, and she was thus enabled to amuse

herself with selecting some of the lovely features of the prospect,

that her window commanded, and combining them in scenes, to which her

tasteful fancy gave a last grace. In these little sketches she generally

placed interesting groups, characteristic of the scenery they animated,

and often contrived to tell, with perspicuity, some simple and affecting

story, when, as a tear fell over the pictured griefs, which her

imagination drew, she would forget, for a moment, her real sufferings.

Thus innocently she beguiled the heavy hours of misfortune, and, with

meek patience, awaited the events of futurity.