The Mysteries of Udolpho

Unnatural deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds

To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.

More needs she the divine, than the physician.

MACBETH

On the following evening, the view of the convent towers, rising among

the shadowy woods, reminded Emily of the nun, whose condition had so

much affected her; and, anxious to know how she was, as well as to see

some of her former friends, she and the Lady Blanche extended their walk

to the monastery.

At the gate stood a carriage, which, from the heat

of the horses, appeared to have just arrived; but a more than common

stillness pervaded the court and the cloisters, through which Emily

and Blanche passed in their way to the great hall, where a nun, who was

crossing to the stair-case, replied to the enquiries of the former, that

sister Agnes was still living, and sensible, but that it was thought she

could not survive the night. In the parlour, they found several of

the boarders, who rejoiced to see Emily, and told her many little

circumstances that had happened in the convent since her departure, and

which were interesting to her only because they related to persons, whom

she had regarded with affection.

While they thus conversed the abbess

entered the room, and expressed much satisfaction at seeing Emily, but

her manner was unusually solemn, and her countenance dejected. 'Our

house,' said she, after the first salutations were over, 'is truly a

house of mourning--a daughter is now paying the debt of nature.--You

have heard, perhaps, that our daughter Agnes is dying?'

Emily expressed her sincere concern. 'Her death presents to us a great and awful lesson,' continued the

abbess; 'let us read it, and profit by it; let it teach us to prepare

ourselves for the change, that awaits us all! You are young, and have

it yet in your power to secure "the peace that passeth all

understanding"--the peace of conscience. Preserve it in your youth, that

it may comfort you in age; for vain, alas! and imperfect are the good

deeds of our latter years, if those of our early life have been evil!'

Emily would have said, that good deeds, she hoped, were never vain;

but she considered that it was the abbess who spoke, and she remained

silent. 'The latter days of Agnes,' resumed the abbess, 'have been exemplary;

would they might atone for the errors of her former ones! Her sufferings

now, alas! are great; let us believe, that they will make her peace

hereafter! I have left her with her confessor, and a gentleman, whom she

has long been anxious to see, and who is just arrived from Paris.

They, I hope, will be able to administer the repose, which her mind has

hitherto wanted.' Emily fervently joined in the wish.