'And is it possible,' said Emily, as these recollections returned--'is
it possible, that a mind, so susceptible of whatever is grand and
beautiful, could stoop to low pursuits, and be subdued by frivolous
temptations?'
She remembered how often she had seen the sudden tear start in his eye,
and had heard his voice tremble with emotion, while he related any great
or benevolent action, or repeated a sentiment of the same character.
'And such a mind,' said she, 'such a heart, were to be sacrificed to the
habits of a great city!'
These recollections becoming too painful to be endured, she abruptly
left the pavilion, and, anxious to escape from the memorials of her
departed happiness, returned towards the chateau. As she passed along
the terrace, she perceived a person, walking, with a slow step, and a
dejected air, under the trees, at some distance. The twilight, which
was now deep, would not allow her to distinguish who it was, and she
imagined it to be one of the servants, till, the sound of her steps
seeming to reach him, he turned half round, and she thought she saw
Valancourt!
Whoever it was, he instantly struck among the thickets on the left, and
disappeared, while Emily, her eyes fixed on the place, whence he
had vanished, and her frame trembling so excessively, that she could
scarcely support herself, remained, for some moments, unable to quit the
spot, and scarcely conscious of existence. With her recollection, her
strength returned, and she hurried toward the house, where she did not
venture to enquire who had been in the gardens, lest she should betray
her emotion; and she sat down alone, endeavouring to recollect the
figure, air and features of the person she had just seen.
Her view of him, however, had been so transient, and the gloom had rendered it
so imperfect, that she could remember nothing with exactness; yet the
general appearance of his figure, and his abrupt departure, made her
still believe, that this person was Valancourt. Sometimes, indeed, she
thought, that her fancy, which had been occupied by the idea of him,
had suggested his image to her uncertain sight: but this conjecture was
fleeting. If it was himself whom she had seen, she wondered much, that
he should be at Tholouse, and more, how he had gained admittance into
the garden; but as often as her impatience prompted her to enquire
whether any stranger had been admitted, she was restrained by an
unwillingness to betray her doubts; and the evening was passed in
anxious conjecture, and in efforts to dismiss the subject from her
thoughts.