he capricious humour of the moment.

On entering the chateau, Madame Cheron expressed a desire, that she
would put up what she thought necessary to take to Tholouse, as she
meant to set off immediately. Emily now tried to persuade her to defer
the journey, at least till the next day, and, at length, with much
difficulty, prevailed.

The day passed in the exercise of petty tyranny on the part of Madame
Cheron, and in mournful regret and melancholy anticipation on that of
Emily, who, when her aunt retired to her apartment for the night, went
to take leave of every other room in this her dear native home, which
she was now quitting for she knew not how long, and for a world, to
which she was wholly a stranger. She could not conquer a presentiment,
which frequently occurred to her, this night--that she should never more
return to La Vallee. Having passed a considerable time in what had been
her father's study, having selected some of his favourite authors, to
put up with her clothes, and shed many tears, as she wiped the dust from
their covers, she seated herself in his chair before the reading desk,
and sat lost in melancholy reflection, till Theresa opened the door to
examine, as was her custom before she went to bed, if was all safe. She
started, on observing her young lady, who bade her come in, and then
gave her some directions for keeping the chateau in readiness for her
reception at all times.

'Alas-a-day! that you should leave it!' said Theresa, 'I think you would
be happier here than where you are going, if one may judge.' Emily made
no reply to this remark; the sorrow Theresa proceeded to express at
her departure affected her, but she found some comfort in the simple
affection of this poor old servant, to whom she gave such directions as
might best conduce to her comfort during her own absence.

Having dismissed Theresa to bed, Emily wandered through every lonely
apartment of the chateau, lingering long in what had been her father's
bed-room, indulging melancholy, yet not unpleasing, emotions, and,
having often returned within the door to take another look at it, she
withdrew to her own chamber. From her window she gazed upon the
garden below, shewn faintly by the moon, rising over the tops of the
palm-trees, and, at length, the calm beauty of the night increased a
desire of indulging the mournful sweetness of bidding farewel to the
beloved shades of her childhood, till she was tempted to descend.
Throwing ov