The next morning, Emily left Toulouse early and arrived at La Vallée around sunset.
As she looked upon the place where her parents had once lived, a deep sadness filled her heart. This was the home of her childhood, the place where she had known her first happiness and innocence.
But after the first wave of sorrow passed, another feeling slowly appeared—a gentle and indescribable comfort.
Time had softened the sharpness of her grief. Instead of avoiding memories of those she had lost, she now found herself seeking them out. Every room where she had once seen her parents seemed almost alive with their presence.
La Vallée still felt like the happiest home she had ever known.
One of the first rooms she entered was her father’s old library. She sat down in his armchair and looked around quietly.
The memories of the past returned before her like a beautiful picture.
The tears that fell from her eyes were not only tears of sorrow. They were also tears of love and gratitude for the happiness she had once shared.
Soon after her arrival, Emily received an unexpected visit from the elderly M. Barreaux.
He had once been a respected neighbor of her father and came eagerly to welcome his old friend’s daughter back to her abandoned home.
Emily felt greatly comforted by seeing someone who remembered her family.
They spent a long time together, speaking about the past and sharing what had happened in their lives since they last met.
By the time M. Barreaux left, the evening had become too dark for Emily to visit the gardens.
But the following morning, she went there with eager emotion.
She walked beneath the trees her father had planted, along the paths where she had once spent many happy hours talking with him.
As she wandered through the familiar scenery, his face appeared clearly in her imagination.
She remembered his gentle smile, his expression, and even the sound of his voice.
Her heart was filled with tender memories.
This was also her father’s favorite season of the year.
Together, they had often admired the colorful autumn forests, the changing lights upon the mountains, and the peaceful beauty of nature.
Now, every sight around her awakened those memories again.
As Emily walked slowly through the woods, her heart formed these thoughts:
Autumn’s Gentle Memories
Sweet autumn, your quiet beauty touches my heart as I walk through these familiar woods.
Your soft winds seem to comfort my lonely thoughts and awaken memories of beloved places and dear friends who are gone.
Those memories bring tears to my eyes, but they are precious tears—more meaningful than simple happiness.
I love the way your colors slowly spread across the year, painting the world with gentle shades.
I watch your farewell smile, your warm light passing over the forests, and the distant hills glowing with golden colors.
The rivers move beneath the shadows, except where a small boat catches the sunlight upon its white sails.
Yet even this beautiful vision fades away, just as clouds cover the shining water.
Life is like this.
It is filled with changing moments—sadness followed by joy, sorrow mixed with happiness.
Emily’s first concern after returning to La Vallée was to ask about Theresa, her father’s old servant.
Emily remembered that when M. Quesnel rented out the château, he had forced Theresa to leave without giving her any support.
After learning that the old woman lived in a nearby cottage, Emily immediately went to visit her.
When she approached the cottage, she was pleased to see that it stood in a lovely place, resting on a green slope beneath a group of oak trees.
The small home looked peaceful, comfortable, and extremely clean.
Inside, Emily found Theresa preparing vine branches.
The moment the old servant saw her former young mistress, she was almost overcome with happiness.
“Ah, my dear young lady!” Theresa cried.
“I thought I would never see you again after I heard you had gone to that strange foreign country.”
“I have been treated very badly since you left. I never imagined they would throw me out of your father’s household when I was already old!”
Emily felt sorry for what had happened.
She assured Theresa that she would make sure her remaining years were comfortable.
She was also happy to see that the old woman now lived in such a pleasant place.
Theresa wiped away her tears.
“Yes, mademoiselle, it is a comfortable home. And I owe it all to the kind friend who rescued me when I was suffering.”
“You were too far away to help me then, but this person found me and brought me here.”
“I never expected such kindness—but I should say no more.”
“Who was this generous friend?” Emily asked.
“Whoever it was, I shall consider that person my friend as well.”
Theresa shook her head.
“Ah, mademoiselle, that friend made me promise never to tell anyone about the kindness he showed me.”
“I cannot reveal his name.”
“But how you have changed since I last saw you! You look so pale and thin now.”
“Yet I can still see your father’s smile in your face.”
“That will never disappear, just like the goodness that always made him smile.”
“Poor man. The world truly lost a wonderful friend when he died.”
Emily was deeply moved when Theresa mentioned her father.
Seeing her sadness, Theresa quickly changed the subject.
“I heard that Madame Cheron married a foreign gentleman after all and took you away with her.”
“How is she now?”
Emily quietly told her that Madame Cheron had died.
Theresa sighed.
“If she had not been your father’s sister, I do not think I could ever have loved her. She was always so harsh.”
“But tell me, mademoiselle, how is that dear young gentleman, Monsieur Valancourt?”
“He was such a handsome and kind young man. Is he well?”
Emily became extremely disturbed at the mention of his name.
“A blessing upon him!” Theresa continued.
“You do not need to look so uncomfortable, my dear young lady. I know everything.”
“You know he loves you, do you not?”
“When you were away, he often came to the château.”
“He would walk through the house looking so unhappy and lonely.”
“He entered every room downstairs and sometimes sat in a chair for hours with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the floor.”
“He would sit there thinking about you.”
“He especially loved the south parlor because I told him that it had once belonged to you.”
“There he would look at the pictures you had painted, play your lute that hung beside the window, and read your books until sunset.”
“Then he would return to his brother’s château.”
“And then—”
“That is enough, Theresa,” Emily interrupted.
“How long have you lived in this cottage, and how may I help you?”
“Will you remain here, or would you like to return and live with me?”
Theresa looked surprised.
“Mademoiselle, do not be ashamed of caring for such a good young gentleman.”
A deep sigh escaped from Emily.
“Ah, how he loved speaking about you!” Theresa said.
“I admired him because of that.”
“He did not speak much himself, but whenever he talked about you, his heart was obvious.”
“Soon I understood why he came to the château.”
“He would go into the garden, walk down to the terrace, and sit beneath that large tree for an entire day with one of your books in his hands.”
“But I do not think he read very much.”
“One day, I happened to pass by and heard someone speaking.”
“I wondered who could be there, because I had allowed no one into the garden except the Chevalier.”
“So I quietly went closer.”
“And there he was—speaking to himself about you.”
“He repeated your name and sighed.”
“He said that he had lost you forever, because you would never return to him.”
Emily lowered her eyes.
“No more of this,” she said.
“It displeases me.”
“But when M. Quesnel rented the château,” Theresa continued, “I thought it would break the Chevalier’s heart.”
“Theresa,” Emily said seriously, “you must not mention the Chevalier again.”
“Not mention him?” Theresa cried.
“What strange times these are!”
“I love the Chevalier almost as much as I love your father and you.”
“Perhaps your affection was misplaced,” Emily replied, trying to hide her tears.
“But whatever the truth may be, we shall never meet again.”
“Never meet again? Misplaced?” Theresa exclaimed.
“What are you saying?”
“My love was certainly not misplaced!”
“It was the Chevalier Valancourt who gave me this cottage and supported me in my old age after M. Quesnel turned me away.”
“The Chevalier Valancourt?” Emily whispered, trembling.
“Yes, mademoiselle,” Theresa answered.
“He himself did it, though he made me promise never to tell.”
“But how could I remain silent when people speak badly of him?”
“He found me when I was helpless and alone.”
“You were too far away to help me.”
“M. Quesnel refused to assist me and told me I must find another position.”
“But I was too old for that.”
“The Chevalier discovered my situation.”
“He bought this cottage for me, gave me money to furnish it, and told me to find another poor woman to live with me.”
“He also ordered his brother’s steward to pay me every three months so that I could live comfortably.”
“Tell me, mademoiselle, do I not have every reason to speak well of him?”
“There were others who could have helped me more easily than he could.”
“I fear he may have harmed himself through his generosity.”
“The payment date has already passed, and I have received nothing.”
“I worry that something terrible may have happened to him.”
“If I were not so far from Estuvière and so lame, I would have gone to ask myself.”
“But I have no one to send.”
Emily’s heart was now overwhelmed with anxiety for Valancourt.
Since she could not personally send a message to his brother’s château without appearing improper, she asked Theresa to hire someone immediately.
The person would go to Valancourt’s steward, inquire about the money owed to Theresa, and quietly ask about Valancourt’s condition.
But Emily first made Theresa promise that she would never mention Emily’s name in the matter, nor connect Emily with the Chevalier Valancourt.
Because Theresa had always been faithful to her father, Emily trusted her promise.
Theresa happily agreed to carry out the task.
Before leaving, Emily gave the old woman money to provide for her immediate needs.
Then she returned to La Vallée with a heavy heart.
She mourned more deeply than ever that a man with such generosity and kindness could have been influenced by the corruption of the world.
Yet she could not ignore the powerful emotion awakened in her heart.
Valancourt’s kindness toward her old servant revealed a devotion and tenderness that seemed to have been meant for Emily herself.