Emily entered the abode of her early years, and the memories of the past
came crowding thick upon her. She seemed to realize that her sorrows
were near an end, but the hope which such a pleasant thought inspired
could not entirely overcome the gloom which the scene around her was
calculated to produce. It was here she had often rambled with her
father, and a thousand trivial incidents presented themselves to remind
her of him.
As she entered the house, she clung to the arm of Vernon, as though she
was entering the abode of evil spirits; for, with all the memories of
the past, she could not forget that the home of her childhood was
inhabited by her inhuman uncle.
She had been but a short time seated in the old, familiar drawing-room,
like a stranger now, when De Guy entered, to request her presence in the
library. She rose, and looked at Vernon, who, understanding the glance,
approached, as if to bear her company.
"This gentleman had better remain here," suggested De Guy.
"I prefer that he should attend me," said Emily, firmly, even while her
heart rose to her throat, at the thought of meeting her uncle.
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