The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 134/578

During this period of torturing suspense to Valancourt, Emily was sunk

into that kind of stupor, with which sudden and irremediable misfortune

sometimes overwhelms the mind. Loving him with the tenderest affection,

and having long been accustomed to consider him as the friend and

companion of all her future days, she had no ideas of happiness, that

were not connected with him. What, then, must have been her suffering,

when thus suddenly they were to be separated, perhaps, for ever,

certainly to be thrown into distant parts of the world, where they could

scarcely hear of each other's existence; and all this in obedience to

the will of a stranger, for such as Montoni, and of a person, who had

but lately been anxious to hasten their nuptials! It was in vain, that

she endeavoured to subdue her grief, and resign herself to an event,

which she could not avoid. The silence of Valancourt afflicted more than

it surprised her, since she attributed it to its just occasion; but,

when the day, preceding that, on which she was to quit Tholouse,

arrived, and she had heard no mention of his being permitted to take

leave of her, grief overcame every consideration, that had made her

reluctant to speak of him, and she enquired of Madame Montoni, whether

this consolation had been refused. Her aunt informed her that it had,

adding, that, after the provocation she had herself received from

Valancourt, in their last interview, and the persecution, which the

Signor had suffered from his letters, no entreaties should avail to

procure it.

'If the Chevalier expected this favour from us,' said she, 'he should

have conducted himself in a very different manner; he should have waited

patiently, till he knew whether we were disposed to grant it, and not

have come and reproved me, because I did not think proper to bestow

my niece upon him,--and then have persisted in troubling the Signor,

because he did not think proper to enter into any dispute about

so childish an affair. His behaviour throughout has been extremely

presumptuous and impertinent, and I desire, that I may never hear his

name repeated, and that you will get the better of those foolish sorrows

and whims, and look like other people, and not appear with that dismal

countenance, as if you were ready to cry. For, though you say nothing,

you cannot conceal your grief from my penetration. I can see you are

ready to cry at this moment, though I am reproving you for it; aye, even

now, in spite of my commands.'

Emily, having turned away to hide her tears, quitted the room to indulge

them, and the day was passed in an intensity of anguish, such as she

had, perhaps, never known before. When she withdrew to her chamber for

the night, she remained in the chair where she had placed herself, on

entering the room, absorbed in her grief, till long after every member

of the family, except herself, was retired to rest. She could not divest

herself of a belief, that she had parted with Valancourt to meet no

more; a belief, which did not arise merely from foreseen circumstances,

for, though the length of the journey she was about to commence,

the uncertainty as to the period of her return, together with the

prohibitions she had received, seemed to justify it, she yielded also to

an impression, which she mistook for a pre-sentiment, that she was going

from Valancourt for ever. How dreadful to her imagination, too, was the

distance that would separate them--the Alps, those tremendous barriers!

would rise, and whole countries extend between the regions where each

must exist! To live in adjoining provinces, to live even in the same

country, though without seeing him, was comparative happiness to the

conviction of this dreadful length of distance.