'My looks do me injustice then, Madame, my loss I know can never be
recovered.' 'Well--well! I will not argue with you; I see you have exactly your
father's disposition; and let me tell you it would have been much
happier for him, poor man! if it had been a different one.'
A look of dignified displeasure, with which Emily regarded Madame
Cheron, while she spoke, would have touched almost any other heart;
she made no other reply, but introduced Valancourt, who could scarcely
stifle the resentment he felt, and whose bow Madame Cheron returned with
a slight curtsy, and a look of supercilious examination. After a few
moments he took leave of Emily, in a manner, that hastily expressed his
pain both at his own departure, and at leaving her to the society of
Madame Cheron. 'Who is that young man?' said her aunt, in an accent which equally
implied inquisitiveness and censure. 'Some idle admirer of yours I
suppose; but I believed niece you had a greater sense of propriety, than
to have received the visits of any young man in your present unfriended
situation. Let me tell you the world will observe those things, and it
will talk, aye and very freely too.'
Emily, extremely shocked at this coarse speech, attempted to interrupt
it; but Madame Cheron would proceed, with all the self-importance of a
person, to whom power is new. '
It is very necessary you should be under the eye of some person more
able to guide you than yourself. I, indeed, have not much leisure for
such a task; however, since your poor father made it his last request,
that I should overlook your conduct--I must even take you under my care.
But this let me tell you niece, that, unless you will determine to be
very conformable to my direction, I shall not trouble myself longer
about you.' Emily made no attempt to interrupt Madame Cheron a second time, grief
and the pride of conscious innocence kept her silent, till her aunt
said, 'I am now come to take you with me to Tholouse; I am sorry
to find, that your poor father died, after all, in such indifferent
circumstances; however, I shall take you home with me. Ah! poor man, he
was always more generous than provident, or he would not have left his
daughter dependent on his relations.'
'Nor has he done so, I hope, madam,' said Emily calmly, 'nor did his
pecuniary misfortunes arise from that noble generosity, which always
distinguished him. The affairs of M. de Motteville may, I trust, yet
be settled without deeply injuring his creditors, and in the meantime I
should be very happy to remain at La Vallee.'