The Mysteries of Udolpho

The celerity and ease, with which this whole

transaction was completed, prevented it from attracting curiosity, or

even from obtaining a place in any of the published records of that

time; so that Emily, who remained in Languedoc, was ignorant of the

defeat and signal humiliation of her late persecutor.

Her mind was now occupied with sufferings, which no effort of reason had

yet been able to controul. Count De Villefort, who sincerely attempted

whatever benevolence could suggest for softening them, sometimes

allowed her the solitude she wished for, sometimes led her into friendly

parties, and constantly protected her, as much as possible, from the

shrewd enquiries and critical conversation of the Countess. He often

invited her to make excursions, with him and his daughter, during which

he conversed entirely on questions, suitable to her taste, without

appearing to consult it, and thus endeavoured gradually to withdraw her

from the subject of her grief, and to awake other interests in her mind.

Emily, to whom he appeared as the enlightened friend and protector of

her youth, soon felt for him the tender affection of a daughter, and

her heart expanded to her young friend Blanche, as to a sister, whose

kindness and simplicity compensated for the want of more brilliant

qualities. It was long before she could sufficiently abstract her

mind from Valancourt to listen to the story, promised by old Dorothee,

concerning which her curiosity had once been so deeply interested; but

Dorothee, at length, reminded her of it, and Emily desired, that she

would come, that night, to her chamber.

Still her thoughts were employed by considerations, which weakened her

curiosity, and Dorothee's tap at the door, soon after twelve, surprised

her almost as much as if it had not been appointed. 'I am come, at

last, lady,' said she; 'I wonder what it is makes my old limbs shake

so, to-night. I thought, once or twice, I should have dropped, as I

was a-coming.' Emily seated her in a chair, and desired, that she would

compose her spirits, before she entered upon the subject, that had

brought her thither. 'Alas,' said Dorothee, 'it is thinking of that, I

believe, which has disturbed me so. In my way hither too, I passed

the chamber, where my dear lady died, and every thing was so still and

gloomy about me, that I almost fancied I saw her, as she appeared upon

her death-bed.'

Emily now drew her chair near to Dorothee, who went on. 'It is about

twenty years since my lady Marchioness came a bride to the chateau. O!

I well remember how she looked, when she came into the great hall, where

we servants were all assembled to welcome her, and how happy my lord the

Marquis seemed. Ah! who would have thought then!--But, as I was saying,

ma'amselle, I thought the Marchioness, with all her sweet looks, did not

look happy at heart, and so I told my husband, and he said it was all

fancy; so I said no more, but I made my remarks, for all that. My lady

Marchioness was then about your age, and, as I have often thought, very

like you.