The Mysteries of Udolpho

'The death of the Marchioness appears extraordinary,' said Emily, who

was anxious to know more than she dared to ask. 'Yes, madam,' replied Dorothee, 'it was extraordinary; I have told you

all I saw, and you may easily guess what I think, I cannot say more,

because I would not spread reports, that might offend my lord the

Count.' 'You are very right,' said Emily;--'where did the Marquis die?'--'In the

north of France, I believe, ma'amselle,' replied Dorothee. 'I was very

glad, when I heard my lord the Count was coming, for this had been a

sad desolate place, these many years, and we heard such strange noises,

sometimes, after my lady's death, that, as I told you before, my husband

and I left it for a neighbouring cottage. And now, lady, I have told you

all this sad history, and all my thoughts, and you have promised, you

know, never to give the least hint about it.'--'I have,' said Emily,

'and I will be faithful to my promise, Dorothee;--what you have told

has interested me more than you can imagine. I only wish I could

prevail upon you to tell the name of the chevalier, whom you thought so

deserving of the Marchioness.'

Dorothee, however, steadily refused to do this, and then returned to the

notice of Emily's likeness to the late Marchioness. 'There is another

picture of her,' added she, 'hanging in a room of the suite, which was

shut up. It was drawn, as I have heard, before she was married, and is

much more like you than the miniature.' When Emily expressed a strong

desire to see this, Dorothee replied, that she did not like to open

those rooms; but Emily reminded her, that the Count had talked the other

day of ordering them to be opened; of which Dorothee seemed to consider

much, and then she owned, that she should feel less, if she went into

them with Emily first, than otherwise, and at length promised to shew

the picture. The night was too far advanced and Emily was too much affected by the

narrative of the scenes, which had passed in those apartments, to wish

to visit them at this hour, but she requested that Dorothee would return

on the following night, when they were not likely to be observed, and

conduct her thither.

Besides her wish to examine the portrait, she felt

a thrilling curiosity to see the chamber, in which the Marchioness had

died, and which Dorothee had said remained, with the bed and furniture,

just as when the corpse was removed for interment. The solemn emotions,

which the expectation of viewing such a scene had awakened, were

in unison with the present tone of her mind, depressed by severe

disappointment. Cheerful objects rather added to, than removed this

depression; but, perhaps, she yielded too much to her melancholy

inclination, and imprudently lamented the misfortune, which no virtue of

her own could have taught her to avoid, though no effort of reason could

make her look unmoved upon the self-degradation of him, whom she had

once esteemed and loved.