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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

"
"And you have met me?" exclaimed Pembroke, "and I not see you; I
cannot comprehend it."
"Yes," answered Thaddeus; "and the first time was going into the
playhouse. I believe I called after you."
"Is it not now ten months since?" returned Pembroke. "I remember very
well that some one called out my name in a voice that seemed known to
me, while I was handing Lady Calthorpe and her sister into the porch.
I looked about, but not seeing any one I knew, I thought I must have
been mistaken. But why, dear Sobieski, why did you not follow me into
the theatre?"
Thaddeus shook his head and smiled languidly. "My poverty would not
permit," replied he; "but I waited in the hall until everybody left
the house, in hopes of intercepting you as you passed again."
Pembroke sprung from his chair at these words, and with vehemence
exclaimed, "I see it! That hypocrite Loftus is at the bottom of it!
He followed me into the theatre; he must have seen you, and his
cursed selfishness was alarmed. Yes; it is no foreign traitor! it
must be he! He would not allow me to return that way. When I said I
would, he told me a thousand lies about the carriages coming round;
and I, believing him, went out by another door. I will tax him of it
to his face!"
"Who is Mr. Loftus?" inquired Thaddeus, surprised at his friend's
suspicion; "I do not know the man."
"What!" returned Pembroke, "don't you remember that Loftus is the
name of my scoundrel tutor who persuaded me to volunteer against
Poland? To screen his baseness I have brought all this upon myself.


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