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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

Miss Dorothy, who had learned the particulars of the late
events from her niece, longed to ask Pembroke how his noble friend
would act on her brother's so strange and lamentable conduct--conduct
so unlike himself in any other circumstance of gratitude in his life.
But every time she moved her lips to inquire, her nephew's inflamed
eyes and wan countenance made her fear to venture on the subject.
Mary sat in mute dejection, watching the agitation of his features;
and when he rose to quit the room, still in silence, she looked
wistfully towards him. Pembroke turned at the same moment, and
holding out his hand to her, said, "Come, Mary: I want to say
something to you. Will you walk with me on the terrace?"
With a beating heart Miss Beaufort took his arm, and proceeded
without a word until they ascended the stone steps and reached the
terrace. A mutual deep-drawn sigh was the first opening to a
conversation on which the souls of both hung. Pembroke was the first
who spoke.
"My dear Mary," cried he, "you are now my sole dependence. From what
I told you yesterday of my father's inflexibility, we can have no
hope of his relenting: indeed, after what has passed, I could not
flatter myself that Thaddeus Sobieski would now submit to any
obligation at his hands. Already he has refused, with all the
indignation I expected, Sir Robert's offer of an annuity.


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