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Emily's pleasantest hours were passed in the pavilion of the terrace, to

which she retired, when she could steal froe, her melancholy There, as she sat

with her eyes fixed on the far-distant Pyrenees, and her thoughts on

Valancourt and the beloved scenes of Gascony, she would play the sweet

and s she had

listened to fro excused herself fro her aunt abroad,

she thus withdrew to the pavilion, with books and her lute It was

theof a sultry day, and the hich

fronted the west, opened upon all the glory of a setting sun Its rays

illu splendour, the cliffs of the Pyrenees, and

touched their snowy tops with a roseate hue, that re after

the sun had sunk below the horizon, and the shades of twilight had

stolen over the landscape Emily touched her lute with that fine

melancholy expression, which came froht on the Garonne, that flowed at no great

distance, and whose waves, as they passed towards La Vallee, she often

vieith a sigh,--these united circuhts ith Valancourt, of who since her arrival at Tholouse, and now that she was removed from

him, and in uncertainty, she perceived all the interest he held in her