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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"


"Mr. Constantine!" almost unconsciously escaped her lips. He started,
and discovered by the humidity on his eyelashes why he had withdrawn.
Her ladyship's tears were gliding down her cheeks. Miss Egerton,
greatly amazed at the oddness of this closet scene, turned to Miss
Beaufort, who a moment before having caught a glimpse of the
distressed countenance of the count, could only bow her head to
Sophia's sportive observation.
Who is there that can enter into the secret folds of the heart and
know all its miseries? Who participate in that joy which dissolves
and rarifies man to the essence of heaven? Soul must mingle with
soul, and the ethereal voice of spirits must speak before these
things can be comprehended.
Ready to suffocate with the emotions she repelled from her eyes, Mary
gladly affected to be absorbed in the business of the stage, (not one
object of which she now saw), and with breathless attention lost not
one soft whisper which Lady Sara poured into the ear of Thaddeus.
"Why," asked her ladyship, in a tremulous and low tone, "why should
we seek ideal sorrows, when those of our own hearts are beyond
alleviation? Happy Rose!" sighed her ladyship. "Mr. Constantine,"
continued she, "do not you think that Adelbert is consoled, at least,
by the affection of that lovely woman?"
Like Miss Beaufort, Constantine had hitherto replied with bows only.


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