The Mysteries of Udolpho

He was silent a moment; and then added, in a firmer voice, 'I do not

wish, that you should make a violent effort to overcome your feelings;

all I, at present, ask, is, that you will check the thoughts, that would

lead you to a remembrance of the past; that you will suffer your mind to

be engaged by present objects; that you will allow yourself to believe

it possible you may yet be happy; and that you will sometimes think

with complacency of poor Du Pont, and not condemn him to the state of

despondency, from which, my dear Emily, I am endeavouring to withdraw

you.' 'Ah! my dear sir,' said Emily, while her tears still fell, 'do not

suffer the benevolence of your wishes to mislead Mons. Du Pont with

an expectation that I can ever accept his hand. If I understand my own

heart, this never can be; your instruction I can obey in almost every

other particular, than that of adopting a contrary belief.'

'Leave me to understand your heart,' replied the Count, with a faint

smile. 'If you pay me the compliment to be guided by my advice in

other instances, I will pardon your incredulity, respecting your future

conduct towards Mons. Du Pont. I will not even press you to remain

longer at the chateau than your own satisfaction will permit; but though

I forbear to oppose your present retirement, I shall urge the claims of

friendship for your future visits.'

Tears of gratitude mingled with those of tender regret, while Emily

thanked the Count for the many instances of friendship she had received

from him; promised to be directed by his advice upon every subject but

one, and assured him of the pleasure, with which she should, at some

future period, accept the invitation of the Countess and himself--If

Mons. Du Pont was not at the chateau.

The Count smiled at this condition. 'Be it so,' said he, 'meanwhile the

convent is so near the chateau, that my daughter and I shall often

visit you; and if, sometimes, we should dare to bring you another

visitor--will you forgive us?'

Emily looked distressed, and remained silent.

'Well,' rejoined the Count, 'I will pursue this subject no further, and

must now entreat your forgiveness for having pressed it thus far. You

will, however, do me the justice to believe, that I have been urged only

by a sincere regard for your happiness, and that of my amiable friend

Mons. Du Pont.' Emily, when she left the Count, went to mention her intended departure

to the Countess, who opposed it with polite expressions of regret; after

which, she sent a note to acquaint the lady abbess, that she should

return to the convent; and thither she withdrew on the evening of the

following day. M. Du Pont, in extreme regret, saw her depart, while the

Count endeavoured to cheer him with a hope, that Emily would sometimes

regard him with a more favourable eye.