The Mysteries of Udolpho

Now, that futurity, so anxiously anticipated, was arrived, she was

returned--but what a dreary blank appeared!--Valancourt no longer

lived for her! She had no longer even the melancholy satisfaction of

contemplating his image in her heart, for he was no longer the same

Valancourt she had cherished there--the solace of many a mournful

hour, the animating friend, that had enabled her to bear up against the

oppression of Montoni--the distant hope, that had beamed over her gloomy

prospect! On perceiving this beloved idea to be an illusion of her own

creation, Valancourt seemed to be annihilated, and her soul sickened at

the blank, that remained. His marriage with a rival, even his death, she

thought she could have endured with more fortitude, than this discovery;

for then, amidst all her grief, she could have looked in secret upon the

image of goodness, which her fancy had drawn of him, and comfort would

have mingled with her suffering!

Drying her tears, she looked, once more, upon the landscape, which had

excited them, and perceived, that she was passing the very bank, where

she had taken leave of Valancourt, on the morning of her departure from

Tholouse, and she now saw him, through her returning tears, such as

he had appeared, when she looked from the carriage to give him a last

adieu--saw him leaning mournfully against the high trees, and remembered

the fixed look of mingled tenderness and anguish, with which he had then

regarded her. This recollection was too much for her heart, and she sunk

back in the carriage, nor once looked up, till it stopped at the gates

of what was now her own mansion.

These being opened, and by the servant, to whose care the chateau had

been entrusted, the carriage drove into the court, where, alighting,

she hastily passed through the great hall, now silent and solitary, to

a large oak parlour, the common sitting room of the late Madame Montoni,

where, instead of being received by M. Quesnel, she found a letter from

him, informing her that business of consequence had obliged him to leave

Tholouse two days before.

Emily was, upon the whole, not sorry to be

spared his presence, since his abrupt departure appeared to indicate the

same indifference, with which he had formerly regarded her. This letter

informed her, also, of the progress he had made in the settlement of

her affairs, and concluded with directions, concerning the forms of

some business, which remained for her to transact. But M. Quesnel's

unkindness did not long occupy her thoughts, which returned the

remembrance of the persons she had been accustomed to see in this

mansion, and chiefly of the ill-guided and unfortunate Madame Montoni.

In the room, where she now sat, she had breakfasted with her on the

morning of their departure for Italy; and the view of it brought most

forcibly to her recollection all she had herself suffered, at that time,

and the many gay expectations, which her aunt had formed, respecting

the journey before her.