upon her blushing face, whispered tenderly, as he pressed her hand to his heart, "O that I could flatter myself sorrow mingled with that sigh."
"Why, what is this?" said the old duke, bustling to the window; "the doctor tells me you are going to leave us. Surety you might contrive to stay till after the election."
"I am very sorry, Sir," said the youth; "but the circumstance that calls me away—"
"Ay, ay, the doctor told me; a near relation dangerously ill, that can't die in peace till he's seen you. Well, well, my boy, such things must be; and if he's doomed to die, I only wish him an easy death, and you a good legacy."
"I cannot tell you how sorry I am to part with you," said Sir Ambrose, who now advanced, "nor how sincerely I wish you good fortune."
"Thank you, thank you. Sir," said the youth: "alas! I now feel how poor words are to express my gratitude for all your kindness. But—"
