'Yes,' said she, 'let me not forget the lessons he has taught me! How often he has pointed out the necessity of resisting even virtuous sorrow; how often we have admired together the greatness of a mind, that can at once suffer and reason! O my father! if you are permitted to look down upon your child, it will please you to see, that she remembers, and endeavours to practise, the precepts you have given her.' A turn on the road now allowed a nearer view of the chateau, the chimneys, tipped with light, rising from behind St.Aubert's favourite oaks, whose foliage partly concealed the lower part of the building.
Emily could not suppress a heavy sigh.

'This, too, was his favourite hour,' said she, as she gazed upon the long evening shadows, stretched athwart the landscape.

'How deep the repose, how lovely the scene! lovely and tranquil as in former days!' Again she resisted the pressure of sorrow, till her ear caught the gay melody of the dance, which she had so often listened to, as she walked with St.Aubert, on the margin of the Garonne, when all her fortitude forsook her, and she continued to weep, till the carriage stopped at the little gate, that opened upon what was now her own territory.

She raised her eyes on the sudden stopping of the carriage, and saw her father's old housekeeper coming to open the gate.

Manchon also came running, and barking before her; and when his young mistress alighted, fawned, and played round her, gasping with joy.
'Dear ma'amselle!' said Theresa, and paused, and looked as if she would have offered something of condolement to Emily, whose tears now prevented reply.