ion of these letters, that
had induced him to leave Colioure, for his feeble frame had required
immediate rest. After travelling a few miles, he fell asleep; and Emily,
who had put two or three books into the carriage, on leaving La Vallee,
had now the leisure for looking into them. She sought for one, in which
Valancourt had been reading the day before, and hoped for the pleasure
of re-tracing a page, over which the eyes of a beloved friend had
lately passed, of dwelling on the passages, which he had admired, and of
permitting them to speak to her in the language of his own mind, and to
bring himself to her presence. On searching for the book, she could find
it no where, but in its stead perceived a volume of Petrarch's poems,
that had belonged to Valancourt, whose name was written in it, and from
which he had frequently read passages to her, with all the pathetic
expression, that characterized the feelings of the author. She hesitated
in believing, what would have been sufficiently apparent to almost any
other person, that he had purposely left this book, instead of the
one she had lost, and that love had prompted the exchange; but, having
opened it with impatient pleasure, and observed the lines of his pencil
drawn along the various passages he had read aloud, and under others
more descriptive of delicate tenderness than he had dared to trust
his voice with, the conviction came, at length, to her mind. For some
moments she was conscious only of being beloved; then, a recollection
of all the variations of tone and countenance, with which he had recited
these sonnets, and of the soul, which spoke in their expression, pressed
to her memory, and she wept over the memorial of his affection.

They arrived at Perpignan soon after sunset, where St. Aubert found,
as he had expected, letters from M. Quesnel, the contents of which
so evidently and grievously affected him, that Emily was alarmed,
and pressed him, as far as her delicacy would permit, to disclose
the occasion of his concern; but he answered her only by tears, and
immediately began to talk on other topics. Emily, though she forbore
to press the one most interesting to her, was greatly affected by her
father's manner, and passed a night of sleepless solicitude.

In the morning they pursued their journey along the coast towards
Leucate, another town on the Mediterranean, situated on the borders of
Languedoc and Rousillon. On the way, Emily renewed the subject of the