Emily.

'Why, madam, Richard has but a bad memory, and could not remember half
of it, and, if I had not asked him a great many questions, I should have
heard little indeed. But he says that Gabriel said, that he and all the
other servants were in great trouble about M. Valancourt, for that he
was such a kind young gentleman, they all loved him, as well as if he
had been their own brother--and now, to think what was become of him!
For he used to be so courteous to them all, and, if any of them had been
in fault, M. Valancourt was the first to persuade my lord to forgive
them. And then, if any poor family was in distress, M. Valancourt was
the first, too, to relieve them, though some folks, not a great way off,
could have afforded that much better than he. And then, said Gabriel, he
was so gentle to every body, and, for all he had such a noble look with
him, he never would command, and call about him, as some of your quality
people do, and we never minded him the less for that. Nay, says Gabriel,
for that matter, we minded him the more, and would all have run to obey
him at a word, sooner than if some folks had told us what to do at full
length; aye, and were more afraid of displeasing him, too, than of them,
that used rough words to us.'

Emily, who no longer considered it to be dangerous to listen to praise,
bestowed on Valancourt, did not attempt to interrupt Theresa, but sat,
attentive to her words, though almost overwhelmed with grief. 'My Lord,'
continued Theresa, 'frets about M. Valancourt sadly, and the more,
because, they say, he had been rather harsh against him lately. Gabriel
says he had it from my Lord's valet, that M. Valancourt had COMPORTED
himself wildly at Paris, and had spent a great deal of money, more
a great deal than my Lord liked, for he loves money better than M.
Valancourt, who had been led astray sadly. Nay, for that matter, M.
Valancourt had been put into prison at Paris, and my Lord, says Gabriel,
refused to take him out, and said he deserved to suffer; and, when old
Gregoire, the butler, heard of this, he actually bought a walking-stick
to take with him to Paris, to visit his young master; but the next thing
we hear is, that M. Valancourt is coming home. O, it was a joyful day
when he came; but he was sadly altered, and my Lord looked very cool
upon him, and he was very sad, indeed. And, soon after, he went away
again into Languedoc, and, since that time, we have never seen him.'

Theresa