If I might dare to hope, that you think me not unworthy such honour, and might be permitted sometimes to enquire after your health, I should now leave you with comparative tranquillity.' Emily, after a moment's silence, said, 'I will be ingenuous with you, for I know you will understand, and allow for my situation; you will consider it as a proof of my--my esteem that I am so.

Though I live here in what was my father's house, I live here alone.

I have, alas! no longer a parent--a parent, whose presence might sanction your visits.
It is unnecessary for me to point out the impropriety of my receiving them.' 'Nor will I affect to be insensible of this,' replied Valancourt, adding mournfully--'but what is to console me for my candour?
I distress you, and would now leave the subject, if I might carry with me a hope of being some time permitted to renew it, of being allowed to make myself known to your family.' Emily was again confused, and again hesitated what to reply; she felt most acutely the difficulty--the forlornness of her situation, which did not allow her a single relative, or friend, to whom she could turn for even a look, that might support and guide her in the present embarrassing circumstances.

Madame Cheron, who was her only relative, and ought to have been this friend, was either occupied by her own amusements, or so resentful of the reluctance her niece had shewn to quit La Vallee, that she seemed totally to have abandoned her.
'Ah! I see,' said Valancourt, after a long pause, during which Emily had begun, and left unfinished two or three sentences, 'I see that I have nothing to hope; my fears were too just, you think me unworthy of your esteem.

That fatal journey! which I considered as the happiest period of my life--those delightful days were to embitter all my future ones.