her
departure from Tholouse, had so unexpectedly taken place. The door was
now shut, and she trembled, while she hesitated whether to open it; but
her wish to see again a place, which had been the chief scene of her
former happiness, at length overcoming her reluctance to encounter the
painful regret it would renew, she entered. The room was obscured by a
melancholy shade; but through the open lattices, darkened by the
hanging foliage of the vines, appeared the dusky landscape, the Garonne
reflecting the evening light, and the west still glowing. A chair was
placed near one of the balconies, as if some person had been sitting
there, but the other furniture of the pavilion remained exactly as
usual, and Emily thought it looked as if it had not once been moved
since she set out for Italy. The silent and deserted air of the place
added solemnity to her emotions, for she heard only the low whisper
of the breeze, as it shook the leaves of the vines, and the very faint
murmur of the Garonne.

She seated herself in a chair, near the lattice, and yielded to the
sadness of her heart, while she recollected the circumstances of her
parting interview with Valancourt, on this spot. It was here too, that
she had passed some of the happiest hours of her life with him, when
her aunt favoured the connection, for here she had often sat and worked,
while he conversed, or read; and she now well remembered with what
discriminating judgment, with what tempered energy, he used to repeat
some of the sublimest passages of their favourite authors; how often he
would pause to admire with her their excellence, and with what tender
delight he would listen to her remarks, and correct her taste.

'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 percei