The last words faltered on her lips, and her tears flowed fast. These words and tears brought, once more, and with instantaneous force, conviction of her love to Valancourt. He could only exclaim, 'Emily! Emily!' and weep over the hand he pressed to his lips; but she, after some moments, again roused herself from the indulgence of sorrow, and said, 'I must leave you; it is late, and my absence from the chateau may be discovered. Think of me—love me—when I am far away; the belief of this will be my comfort!'

'Think of you!—love you!' exclaimed Valancourt.

'Try to moderate these transports,' said Emily, 'for my sake, try.'

'For your sake!'

'Yes, for my sake,' replied Emily, in a tremulous voice, 'I cannot leave you thus!'

'Then do not leave me!' said Valancourt, with quickness. 'Why should we part, or part for longer than till to-morrow?'

'I am, indeed I am, unequal to these moments,' replied Emily, 'you tear my heart, but I never can consent to this hasty, imprudent proposal!'

'If we could command our time, my Emily, it should not be thus hasty; we must submit to circumstances.'

'We must indeed! I have already told you all my heart—my spirits are gone. You allowed the force of my objections, till your tenderness called up vague terrors, which have given us both unnecessary anguish. Spare me! do not oblige me to repeat the reasons I have already urged.'

'Spare you!' cried Valancourt, 'I am a wretch—a very wretch, that have felt only for myself!—I! who ought to have shewn the fortitude of a man, who ought to have supported you, I! have increased your sufferings by the conduct of a child! Forgive me, Emily! think of the distraction of my mind now that I am about to part with all that is dear to me—and forgive me! When you are gone, I shall recollect with bitter remorse what I have made you suffer, and shall wish in vain that I could see you, if only for a moment, that I might sooth your grief.'

Tears again interrupted his voice, and Emily wept with him. 'I will shew myself more worthy of your love,' said Valancourt, at length; 'I will not prolong these moments. My Emily—my own Emily! never forget me! God knows when we shall meet again! I resign you to his care.— O God!—O God!—protect and bless her!'

He pressed her hand to his heart. Emily sunk almost lifeless on his bosom, and neither wept, nor spoke. Valancourt, now commanding his own distress, tried to comfort and re-assure her, but she appeared totally unaffected by what he said, and a sigh, which she uttered, now and then, was all that proved she had not fainted.

He supported her slowly towards the chateau, weeping and speaking to her; but she answered only in sighs, till, having reached the gate, that terminated the avenue, she seemed to have recovered her consciousness, and, looking round, perceived how near they were to the chateau. 'We must part here,' said she, stopping, 'Why prolong these moments? Teach me the fortitude I have forgot.'