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The Mysteries of Udolpho

Chapter III.13
As when a wave, that from a cloud impends,
And, swell'd with tempests, on the ship descends,
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud,
Howl o'er the masts, and sing through ev'ry shroud:
Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears,
And instant death on ev'ry wave appears.
POPE'S HOMER
The Lady Blanche, meanwhile, who was left much alone, became impatient for the
company of her new friend, whom she wished to observe sharing in the delight she
received from the beautiful scenery around. She had now no person, to whom she could
express her admiration and communicate her pleasures, no eye, that sparkled to her smile,
or countenance, that reflected her happiness; and she became spiritless and pensive. The
Count, observing her dissatisfaction, readily yielded to her entreaties, and reminded
Emily of her promised visit; but the silence of Valancourt, which was now prolonged far
beyond the period, when a letter might have arrived from Estuviere, oppressed Emily
with severe anxiety, and, rendering her averse to society, she would willingly have
deferred her acceptance of this invitation, till her spirits should be relieved. The Count
and his family, however, pressed to see her; and, as the circumstances, that prompted her
wish for solitude, could not be explained, there was an appearance of caprice in her
refusal, which she could not persevere in, without offending the friends, whose esteem
she valued. At length, therefore, she returned upon a second visit to Chateau-le-Blanc.
Here the friendly manner of Count De Villefort encouraged Emily to mention to him her
situation, respecting the estates of her late aunt, and to consult him on the means of
recovering them. He had little doubt, that the law would decide in her favour, and,
advising her to apply to it, offered first to write to an advocate at Avignon, on whose
opinion he thought he could rely. His kindness was gratefully accepted by Emily, who,
soothed by the courtesy she daily experienced, would have been once more happy, could
she have been assured of Valancourt's welfare and unaltered affection. She had now been
above a week at the chateau, without receiving intelligence of him, and, though she knew,
that, if he was absent from his brother's residence, it was scarcely probable her letter had
yet reached him, she could not forbear to admit doubts and fears, that destroyed her
peace. Again she would consider of all, that might have happened in the long period,
since her first seclusion at Udolpho, and her mind was sometimes so overwhelmed with
an apprehension, that Valancourt was no more, or that he lived no longer for her, that the
company even of Blanche became intolerably oppressive, and she would sit alone in her
apartment for hours together, when the engagements of the family allowed her to do so,
without incivility.
In one of these solitary hours, she unlocked a little box, which contained some letters of
Valancourt, with some drawings she had sketched, during her stay in Tuscany, the latter
 
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