'Pray proceed,' said Emily, 'I am interested.' 'The story is already told,' resumed the nun, 'I have only to mention,
that the long struggle, which Agnes suffered, between love, remorse
and a sense of the duties she had taken upon herself in becoming of our
order, at length unsettled her reason. At first, she was frantic and
melancholy by quick alternatives; then, she sunk into a deep and settled
melancholy, which still, however, has, at times, been interrupted by
fits of wildness, and, of late, these have again been frequent.'
Emily was affected by the history of the sister, some parts of whose
story brought to her remembrance that of the Marchioness de Villeroi,
who had also been compelled by her father to forsake the object of her
affections, for a nobleman of his choice; but, from what Dorothee had
related, there appeared no reason to suppose, that she had escaped the
vengeance of a jealous husband, or to doubt for a moment the innocence
of her conduct. But Emily, while she sighed over the misery of the
nun, could not forbear shedding a few tears to the misfortunes of the
Marchioness; and, when she returned to the mention of sister Agnes, she
asked Frances if she remembered her in her youth, and whether she was
then beautiful. 'I was not here at the time, when she took the vows,' replied Frances,
'which is so long ago, that few of the present sisterhood, I believe,
were witnesses of the ceremony; nay, ever our lady mother did not then
preside over the convent: but I can remember, when sister Agnes was a
very beautiful woman. She retains that air of high rank, which always
distinguished her, but her beauty, you must perceive, is fled; I can
scarcely discover even a vestige of the loveliness, that once animated
her features.'
'It is strange,' said Emily, 'but there are moments, when her
countenance has appeared familiar to my memory! You will think me
fanciful, and I think myself so, for I certainly never saw sister Agnes,
before I came to this convent, and I must, therefore, have seen
some person, whom she strongly resembles, though of this I have no
recollection.' 'You have been interested by the deep melancholy of her countenance,'
said Frances, 'and its impression has probably deluded your imagination;
for I might as reasonably think I perceive a likeness between you and
Agnes, as you, that you have seen her any where but in this convent,
since this has been her place of refuge, for nearly as many years as
make your age.' 'Indeed!' said Emily.