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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

Her ladyship
talked to him on various subjects; but he answered ill upon them all,
and sometimes very wide of the matter. At last, conscious that he
must be burdensome, he arose, and, looking paler and more depressed
than when he entered, wished her a good morning.
"I am afraid, Mr. Constantine, you are unwell."
Like most people who desire to hide what is passing in their minds,
Thaddeus gladly assented to this, as an excuse for a taciturnity he
could not overcome.
"Then," cried her ladyship, "I hope you will let me know where to
send to inquire after your health."
Thaddeus was confounded for a moment; then, returning into the room,
he took up a pen, which lay on the table, and said,
"I will write my address to a place where any of your ladyship's
commands may reach me; but I will do myself the honor to repeat my
call very soon."
"I shall always be happy to see you," replied the countess, while he
was writing; "but before I engage you in a promise of which you may
afterwards repent, I must tell you that you will meet with dull
entertainment at my house. I see very little company; and were it not
for the inexhaustible spirits of Miss Egerton, I believe I should
become a complete misanthrope."
"Your house will be my paradise!" exclaimed the count, with an
expressiveness to the force of which he did not immediately attend.
Lady Tinemouth smiled.


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