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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

Therefore, once again, dear Lady Tinemouth, let me implore you
to preserve my secret."
She saw by the earnestness of his manner that she ought to comply,
and without further hesitation promised all the silence he desired.
This long moonlight conversation, by awakening all those dormant
remembrances which were cherished, though hidden in the depths of his
bosom, gave birth to that _mirage_ of imagination which painted
that night, in the rapid series of his tumultuous dreams, the images
of every being whom he had ever loved, or now continued to regard
with interest.
Proceeding next morning towards Harley Street, he mused on what had
happened; and pleased that he had, though unpremeditatedly, paid the
just compliment of his entire confidence to the uncommon friendship
of the countess, he arrived at Lady Dundas's door before he was
sensible of the ground he had passed over, and in a few minutes
afterwards was ushered into his accustomed purgatory.
When the servant opened the study-door, Miss Euphemia was again
alone. Thaddeus recoiled, but he could not retreat.
"Come in, Mr. Constantine," cried the little beauty, in a languid
tone; "my sister is going to the riding-school with Mr. Lascelles.
Miss Beaufort wanted me to drive out with her and my mother, but I
preferred waiting for you."
The count bowed; and almost retreating with fear of what might next
be said, he gladly heard a thundering knock at the door, and a moment
after the voice of Miss Dundas ascending the stairs.


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