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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"


Meanwhile the papers of the day teemed with Sobieski's actions--
Sobieski's fame; and supposing that increasing glory had blotted me
out of your memory, I resolved thenceforth to regard our friendship
as a dream, and never to speak of it more."
Confounded at this double misapprehension, Thaddeus with a glowing
countenance expressed his regret for having doubted his friend, and
repeating the assurance of having been punctual to his promise of
correspondence, even when he dreamed him inconstant, acknowledged
that nothing but a premeditated scheme could have effected so many
disappointments.
"Ay," returned Pembroke, reddening with awakened anger; "I could
swear that Mr. Loftus has all my letters in his bureau at this
moment! No house ever gave a man a better opportunity to play the
rogue in than ours. It is a custom with us to lay our letters every
morning on the hall-table, whence they are sent to the office; and
when the post arrives they are spread out in the same way, that their
several owners may take them as they pass to breakfast. From this
arrangement I cannot doubt the means by which Mr. Loftus, under the
hope of separating us forever, has intercepted every letter to you
and every letter from you. I suppose the wretch feared I might become
impatient, and break my engagement if our correspondence were
allowed. He trembled lest the business should be blown before the
rector died, and he, in consequence, lose both the expected living
and his present situation about Lord Avon.


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