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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

Robson; nothing:" and
he was leaving the kitchen, but she followed him, terrified at his
look and manner.
"Pray, Mr. Constantine!"
"Nay, my dear madam," said he, leading her back, "I am not well; I
believe my walk has overcome me. Let me be a few minutes alone, till
I have recovered myself. It will oblige me."
"Well, sir, as you please!" and then, laying her withered hand
fearfully upon his arm, "forgive me, dear sir," said she, "if my
attentions are troublesome. Indeed, I fear that sometimes great love
appears like great impertinence; I would always be serving you, and
therefore I often forget the wide difference between your honor's
station and mine."
The count could only press her hand gratefully, and with an emotion
which made him hurry up stairs to hide. When in his own room, he shut
the door, and cast a wild and inquisitive gaze around the apartment;
then, throwing himself into a chair, he struck his head with his
hand, and exclaimed, "It is gone! What will become of me?--of this
poor woman, whose substance I have consumed?"
It was true; the watch, by the sale of which he had calculated to
defray the charges of his illness, was indeed lost. A villain in the
crowd, having perceived the sparkling of the chain, had taken it
unobserved from his side; and he knew nothing of his loss until,
feeling for his watch to see the hour, he discovered his misfortune.


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