The Mysteries of Udolpho

'And how little did I expect, that it would be necessary for me to say

so!' rejoined Emily, while her voice softened into tenderness, and her

tears flowed again.--'That you--you, Valancourt, would ever fall from my

esteem!' He was silent a moment, as if overwhelmed by the consciousness of no

longer deserving this esteem, as well as the certainty of having lost

it, and then, with impassioned grief, lamented the criminality of his

late conduct and the misery to which it had reduced him, till, overcome

by a recollection of the past and a conviction of the future, he burst

into tears, and uttered only deep and broken sighs.

The remorse he had expressed, and the distress he suffered could not

be witnessed by Emily with indifference, and, had she not called to

her recollection all the circumstances, of which Count De Villefort

had informed her, and all he had said of the danger of confiding in

repentance, formed under the influence of passion, she might perhaps

have trusted to the assurances of her heart, and have forgotten his

misconduct in the tenderness, which that repentance excited.

Valancourt, returning to the chair beside her, at length, said, in a

calm voice, ''Tis true, I am fallen--fallen from my own esteem! but

could you, Emily, so soon, so suddenly resign, if you had not before

ceased to love me, or, if your conduct was not governed by the designs,

I will say, the selfish designs of another person! Would you not

otherwise be willing to hope for my reformation--and could you bear, by

estranging me from you, to abandon me to misery--to myself!'--Emily wept

aloud.--'No, Emily--no--you would not do this, if you still loved me.

You would find your own happiness in saving mine.'

'There are too many probabilities against that hope,' said Emily, 'to

justify me in trusting the comfort of my whole life to it. May I not

also ask, whether you could wish me to do this, if you really loved me?'

'Really loved you!' exclaimed Valancourt--'is it possible you can doubt

my love! Yet it is reasonable, that you should do so, since you see,

that I am less ready to suffer the horror of parting with you, than

that of involving you in my ruin. Yes, Emily--I am ruined--irreparably

ruined--I am involved in debts, which I can never discharge!'

Valancourt's look, which was wild, as he spoke this, soon settled into

an expression of gloomy despair; and Emily, while she was compelled to

admire his sincerity, saw, with unutterable anguish, new reasons for

fear in the suddenness of his feelings and the extent of the misery, in

which they might involve him. After some minutes, she seemed to

contend against her grief and to struggle for fortitude to conclude

the interview. 'I will not prolong these moments,' said she, 'by a

conversation, which can answer no good purpose.