The Mysteries of Udolpho

Do you think you can resist the solicitation of a favoured

admirer, when he pleads, in affliction, for the name of one, who

has robbed him of a blessing?'--'I shall not be exposed to such a

temptation, sir,' said Emily, with modest pride, 'for I cannot favour

one, whom I must no longer esteem. I, however, readily give my word.'

Tears, in the mean time, contradicted her first assertion; and she felt,

that time and effort only could eradicate an affection, which had been

formed on virtuous esteem, and cherished by habit and difficulty.

'I will trust you then,' said the Count, 'for conviction is necessary

to your peace, and cannot, I perceive, be obtained, without this

confidence. My son has too often been an eye-witness of the Chevalier's

ill conduct; he was very near being drawn in by it; he was, indeed,

drawn in to the commission of many follies, but I rescued him from guilt

and destruction. Judge then, Mademoiselle St. Aubert, whether a father,

who had nearly lost his only son by the example of the Chevalier, has

not, from conviction, reason to warn those, whom he esteems, against

trusting their happiness in such hands. I have myself seen the Chevalier

engaged in deep play with men, whom I almost shuddered to look upon. If

you still doubt, I will refer you to my son.'

'I must not doubt what you have yourself witnessed,' replied Emily,

sinking with grief, 'or what you assert. But the Chevalier has, perhaps,

been drawn only into a transient folly, which he may never repeat. If

you had known the justness of his former principles, you would allow for

my present incredulity.' 'Alas!' observed the Count, 'it is difficult to believe that, which

will make us wretched. But I will not sooth you by flattering and

false hopes. We all know how fascinating the vice of gaming is, and how

difficult it is, also, to conquer habits; the Chevalier might, perhaps,

reform for a while, but he would soon relapse into dissipation--for I

fear, not only the bonds of habit would be powerful, but that his morals

are corrupted. And--why should I conceal from you, that play is not his

only vice? he appears to have a taste for every vicious pleasure.'

The Count hesitated and paused; while Emily endeavoured to support

herself, as, with increasing perturbation, she expected what he might

further say. A long pause of silence ensued, during which he was visibly

agitated; at length, he said, 'It would be a cruel delicacy, that

could prevail with me to be silent--and I will inform you, that the

Chevalier's extravagance has brought him twice into the prisons of

Paris, from whence he was last extricated, as I was told upon authority,

which I cannot doubt, by a well-known Parisian Countess, with whom he

continued to reside, when I left Paris.'