The Mysteries of Udolpho

She had dismissed the grace of modesty, but

then she knew perfectly well how to manage the stare of assurance; her

manners had little of the tempered sweetness, which is necessary to

render the female character interesting, but she could occasionally

throw into them an affectation of spirits, which seemed to triumph over

every person, who approached her. In the country, however, she generally

affected an elegant languor, that persuaded her almost to faint,

when her favourite read to her a story of fictitious sorrow; but

her countenance suffered no change, when living objects of distress

solicited her charity, and her heart beat with no transport to the

thought of giving them instant relief;--she was a stranger to the

highest luxury, of which, perhaps, the human mind can be sensible, for

her benevolence had never yet called smiles upon the face of misery.

In the evening, the Count, with all his family, except the Countess and

Mademoiselle Bearn, went to the woods to witness the festivity of the

peasants. The scene was in a glade, where the trees, opening, formed a

circle round the turf they highly overshadowed; between their branches,

vines, loaded with ripe clusters, were hung in gay festoons; and,

beneath, were tables, with fruit, wine, cheese and other rural

fare,--and seats for the Count and his family. At a little distance,

were benches for the elder peasants, few of whom, however, could forbear

to join the jocund dance, which began soon after sun-set, when several

of sixty tripped it with almost as much glee and airy lightness, as

those of sixteen.

The musicians, who sat carelessly on the grass, at the foot of a tree,

seemed inspired by the sound of their own instruments, which were

chiefly flutes and a kind of long guitar. Behind, stood a boy,

flourishing a tamborine, and dancing a solo, except that, as he

sometimes gaily tossed the instrument, he tripped among the other

dancers, when his antic gestures called forth a broader laugh, and

heightened the rustic spirit of the scene.

The Count was highly delighted with the happiness he witnessed, to which

his bounty had largely contributed, and the Lady Blanche joined the

dance with a young gentleman of her father's party. Du Pont requested

Emily's hand, but her spirits were too much depressed, to permit her to

engage in the present festivity, which called to her remembrance that

of the preceding year, when St. Aubert was living, and of the melancholy

scenes, which had immediately followed it.

Overcome by these recollections, she, at length, left the spot, and

walked slowly into the woods, where the softened music, floating at a

distance, soothed her melancholy mind. The moon threw a mellow light

among the foliage; the air was balmy and cool, and Emily, lost in

thought, strolled on, without observing whither, till she perceived the

sounds sinking afar off, and an awful stillness round her, except that,

sometimes, the nightingale beguiled the silence with Liquid notes, that close the eye of day.