Is all the council that we two have shared,

the hours that we have spent,

When we have chid the hasty-footed time

For parting us — Oh! and is all forgot?

And will you rend our ancient love asunder?

MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM

In the evening, when Emily was at length informed, that Count De Villefort requested to see her, she guessed that Valancourt was below, and, endeavouring to assume composure and to recollect all her spirits, she rose and left the apartment; but on reaching the door of the library, where she imagined him to be, her emotion returned with such energy, that, fearing to trust herself in the room, she returned into the hall, where she continued for a considerable time, unable to command her agitated spirits.

When she could recall them, she found in the library Valancourt, seated with the Count, who both rose on her entrance; but she did not dare to look at Valancourt, and the Count, having led her to a chair, immediately withdrew.

Emily remained with her eyes fixed on the floor, under such oppression of heart, that she could not speak, and with difficulty breathed; while Valancourt threw himself into a chair beside her, and, sighing heavily, continued silent, when, had she raised her eyes, she would have perceived the violent emotions, with which he was agitated.

At length, in a tremulous voice, he said, ‘I have solicited to see you this evening, that I might, at least, be spared the further torture of suspense, which your altered manner had occasioned me, and which the hints I have just received from the Count have in part explained. I perceive I have enemies, Emily, who envied me my late happiness, and who have been busy in searching out the means to destroy it: I perceive, too, that time and absence have weakened the affection you once felt for me, and that you can now easily be taught to forget me.’

His last words faltered, and Emily, less able to speak than before, continued silent.

‘O what a meeting is this!’ exclaimed Valancourt, starting from his seat, and pacing the room with hurried steps, ‘what a meeting is this, after our long — long separation!’ Again he sat down, and, after the struggle of a moment, he added in a firm but despairing tone, ‘This is too much — I cannot bear it! Emily, will you not speak to me?’

He covered his face with his hand, as if to conceal his emotion, and took Emily’s, which she did not withdraw. Her tears could no longer be restrained; and, when he raised his eyes and perceived that she was weeping, all his tenderness returned, and a gleam of hope appeared to cross his mind, for he exclaimed, ‘O! you do pity me, then, you do love me! Yes, you are still my own Emily — let me believe those tears, that tell me so!’

Emily now made an effort to recover her firmness, and, hastily drying them, ‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I do pity you — I weep for you — but, ought I to think of you with affection? You may remember, that yester- evening I said, I had still sufficient confidence in your candour to believe, that, when I should request an explanation of your words, you would give it. This explanation is now unnecessary, I understand them too well; but prove, at least, that your candour is deserving of the confidence I give it, when I ask you, whether you are conscious of being the same estimable Valancourt — whom I once loved.’

‘Once loved!’ cried he,—‘the same — the same!’ He paused in extreme emotion, and then added, in a voice at once solemn, and dejected,— ‘No — I am not the same!— I am lost — I am no longer worthy of you!’

He again concealed his face. Emily was too much affected by this honest confession to reply immediately, and, while she struggled to overcome the pleadings of her heart, and to act with the decisive firmness, which was necessary for her future peace, she perceived all the danger of trusting long to her resolution, in the presence of Valancourt, and was anxious to conclude an interview, that tortured them both; yet, when she considered, that this was probably their last meeting, her fortitude sunk at once, and she experienced only emotions of tenderness and of despondency.

Valancourt, meanwhile, lost in emotions of remorse and grief, which he had neither the power, or the will to express, sat insensible almost of the presence of Emily, his features still concealed, and his breast agitated by convulsive sighs.

‘Spare me the necessity,’ said Emily, recollecting her fortitude, ‘spare me the necessity of mentioning those circumstances of your conduct, which oblige me to break our connection forever.— We must part, I now see you for the last time.’

‘Impossible!’ cried Valancourt, roused from his deep silence, ‘You cannot mean what you say!— you cannot mean to throw me from you forever!’

‘We must part,’ repeated Emily, with emphasis,—‘and that forever! Your own conduct has made this necessary.’

‘This is the Count’s determination,’ said he haughtily, ‘not yours, and I shall enquire by what authority he interferes between us.’ He now rose, and walked about the room in great emotion.

‘Let me save you from this error,’ said Emily, not less agitated —‘it is my determination, and, if you reflect a moment on your late conduct, you will perceive, that my future peace requires it.’

‘Your future peace requires, that we should part — part forever!’ said Valancourt, ‘How little did I ever expect to hear you say so!’

‘And how little did I expect, that it would be necessary for me to say so!’ rejoined Emily, while her voice softened into tenderness, and her tears flowed again.—‘That you — you, Valancourt, would ever fall from my esteem!’

He was silent a moment, as if overwhelmed by the consciousness of no longer deserving this esteem, as well as the certainty of having lost it, and then, with impassioned grief, lamented the criminality of his late conduct and the misery to which it had reduced him, till, overcome by a recollection of the past and a conviction of the future, he burst into tears, and uttered only deep and broken sighs.

The remorse he had expressed, and the distress he suffered could not be witnessed by Emily with indifference, and, had she not called to her recollection all the circumstances, of which Count De Villefort had informed her, and all he had said of the danger of confiding in repentance, formed under the influence of passion, she might perhaps have trusted to the assurances of her heart, and have forgotten his misconduct in the tenderness, which that repentance excited.

Valancourt, returning to the chair beside her, at length, said, in a calm voice, ‘’Tis true, I am fallen — fallen from my own esteem! but could you, Emily, so soon, so suddenly resign, if you had not before ceased to love me, or, if your conduct was not governed by the designs, I will say, the selfish designs of another person! Would you not otherwise be willing to hope for my reformation — and could you bear, by estranging me from you, to abandon me to misery — to myself!’— Emily wept aloud.—‘No, Emily — no — you would not do this, if you still loved me. You would find your own happiness in saving mine.’

‘There are too many probabilities against that hope,’ said Emily, ‘to justify me in trusting the comfort of my whole life to it. May I not also ask, whether you could wish me to do this, if you really loved me?’

‘Really loved you!’ exclaimed Valancourt —‘is it possible you can doubt my love! Yet it is reasonable, that you should do so, since you see, that I am less ready to suffer the horror of parting with you, than that of involving you in my ruin. Yes, Emily — I am ruined- -irreparably ruined — I am involved in debts, which I can never discharge!’ Valancourt’s look, which was wild, as he spoke this, soon settled into an expression of gloomy despair; and Emily, while she was compelled to admire his sincerity, saw, with unutterable anguish, new reasons for fear in the suddenness of his feelings and the extent of the misery, in which they might involve him. After some minutes, she seemed to contend against her grief and to struggle for fortitude to conclude the interview. ‘I will not prolong these moments,’ said she, ‘by a conversation, which can answer no good purpose. Valancourt, farewell!’

‘You are not going?’ said he, wildly interrupting her —‘You will no............