The Mysteries of Udolpho

Dorothee shook her head; and Emily observed her, with eyes strongly

expressive of the interest she now felt. 'Let us sit down in this

window,' said the Lady Blanche, on reaching the opposite end of the

gallery: 'and pray, Dorothee, if it is not painful to you, tell us

something more about the Marchioness. I should like to look into the

glass you spoke of just now, and see a few of the circumstances, which

you say often pass over it.'

'No, my lady,' replied Dorothee; 'if you knew as much as I do, you would

not, for you would find there a dismal train of them; I often wish I

could shut them out, but they will rise to my mind. I see my dear lady

on her death-bed,--her very look,--and remember all she said--it was a

terrible scene!' 'Why was it so terrible?' said Emily with emotion.

'Ah, dear young lady! is not death always terrible?' replied Dorothee.

To some further enquiries of Blanche Dorothee was silent; and Emily,

observing the tears in her eyes, forbore to urge the subject, and

endeavoured to withdraw the attention of her young friend to some object

in the gardens, where the Count, with the Countess and Monsieur Du Pont,

appearing, they went down to join them.

When he perceived Emily, he advanced to meet her, and presented her to

the Countess, in a manner so benign, that it recalled most powerfully

to her mind the idea of her late father, and she felt more gratitude to

him, than embarrassment towards the Countess, who, however, received

her with one of those fascinating smiles, which her caprice sometimes

allowed her to assume, and which was now the result of a conversation

the Count had held with her, concerning Emily. Whatever this might be,

or whatever had passed in his conversation with the lady abbess, whom

he had just visited, esteem and kindness were strongly apparent in his

manner, when he addressed Emily, who experienced that sweet emotion,

which arises from the consciousness of possessing the approbation of

the good; for to the Count's worth she had been inclined to yield her

confidence almost from the first moment, in which she had seen him.

Before she could finish her acknowledgments for the hospitality she had

received, and mention of her design of going immediately to the convent,

she was interrupted by an invitation to lengthen her stay at the

chateau, which was pressed by the Count and the Countess, with an

appearance of such friendly sincerity, that, though she much wished to

see her old friends at the monastery, and to sigh, once more, over her

father's grave, she consented to remain a few days at the chateau.