I care not, Fortune! what you me deny;

You cannot rob me of free nature's grace;You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shews her brightening face;You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve:

Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave:

Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.

THOMSON

In the morning, Valancourt breakfasted with St.Aubert and Emily, neither of whom seemed much refreshed by sleep.The languor of illness still hung over St.Aubert, and to Emily's fears his disorder appeared to be increasing fast upon him.She watched his looks with anxious affection, and their expression was always faithfully reflected in her own.

At the commencement of their acquaintance, Valancourt had made known his name and family.St.Aubert was not a stranger to either, for the family estates, which were now in the possession of an elder brother of Valancourt, were little more than twenty miles distant from La Vallee, and he had sometimes met the elder Valancourt on visits in the neighbourhood.This knowledge had made him more willingly receive his present companion; for, though his countenance and manners would have won him the acquaintance of St.Aubert, who was very apt to trust to the intelligence of his own eyes, with respect to countenances, he would not have accepted these, as sufficient introductions to that of his daughter.

The breakfast was almost as silent as the supper of the preceding night; but their musing was at length interrupted by the sound of the carriage wheels, which were to bear away St.Aubert and Emily.

Valancourt started from his chair, and went to the window; it was indeed the carriage, and he returned to his seat without speaking.

The moment was now come when they must part.St.Aubert told Valancourt, that he hoped he would never pass La Vallee without favouring him with a visit; and Valancourt, eagerly thanking him, assured him that he never would; as he said which he looked timidly at Emily, who tried to smile away the seriousness of her spirits.

They passed a few minutes in interesting conversation, and St.Aubert then led the way to the carriage, Emily and Valancourt following in silence.The latter lingered at the door several minutes after they were seated, and none of the party seemed to have courage enough to say--Farewell.At length, St.Aubert pronounced the melancholy word, which Emily passed to Valancourt, who returned it, with a dejected smile, and the carriage drove on.

The travellers remained, for some time, in a state of tranquil pensiveness, which is not unpleasing.St.Aubert interrupted it by observing, 'This is a very promising young man; it is many years since I have been so much pleased with any person, on so short an acquaintance.He brings back to my memory the days of my youth, when every scene was new and delightful!' St.Aubert sighed, and sunk again into a reverie; and, as Emily looked back upon the road they had passed, Valancourt was seen, at the door of the little inn, following them with his eyes.Her perceived her, and waved his hand;and she returned the adieu, till the winding road shut her from his sight.

'I remember when I was about his age,' resumed St.Aubert, 'and Ithought, and felt exactly as he does.The world was opening upon me then, now--it is closing.'

'My dear sir, do not think so gloomily,' said Emily in a trembling voice, 'I hope you have many, many years to live--for your own sake--for MY sake.'

'Ah, my Emily!' replied St.Aubert, 'for thy sake! Well- I hope it is so.' He wiped away a tear, that was stealing down his cheek, threw a smile upon his countenance, and said in a cheering voice, 'there is something in the ardour and ingenuousness of youth, which is particularly pleasing to the contemplation of an old man, if his feelings have not been entirely corroded by the world.It is cheering and reviving, like the view of spring to a sick person; his mind catches somewhat of the spirit of the season, and his eyes are lighted up with a transient sunshine.Valancourt is this spring to me.'

Emily, who pressed her father's hand affectionately, had never before listened with so much pleasure to the praises he bestowed; no, not even when he had bestowed them on herself.

They travelled on, among vineyards, woods, and pastures, delighted with the romantic beauty of the landscape, which was bounded, on one side, by the grandeur of the Pyrenees, and, on the other, by the ocean; and, soon after noon, they reached the town of Colioure, situated on the Mediterranean.Here they dined, and rested till towards the cool of day, when they pursued their way along the shores--those enchanting shores!--which extend to Languedoc.Emily gazed with enthusiasm on the vastness of the sea, its surface varying, as the lights and shadows fell, and on its woody banks, mellowed with autumnal tints.