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ennobled; as such, it is to be desired. To virtue has the supreme Director of all things assigned rewards enough, even here, to fix its attachments.”
The subject began to overpower her. Harley lifted up his eyes from the ground. “There are,” said he, in a low voice, “there are attachments, Miss Walton.” His glance met hers. They both betrayed a confusion, and were both instantly withdrawn. He paused some moments.
“I am," he said, “in such a state as calls for sincerity; let that alone excuse it - it is, perhaps, the last time we shall ever meet. I feel something particularly solemn in the acknowledgment; yet my heart swells to make it, awed as it is by a sense of my presumption — by a sense of your perfections." He paused again. "Let it not offend you," he resumed, " to know their power over one so unworthy. My heart will, I believe, soon cease to beat, even with that feeling which it shall lose the latest. To love Miss Walton could not be a crime. If to declare it is one, the expiation will be made.”
Her tears were now flowing without control. entreat you," said she, “ to have better hopes; let not life be so indifferent to you; if my wishes can put any value upon it - I will not pretend to misunderstand you — I know your worth; I have long known it, I have esteemed it. What would you have me say? I have loved it as it deserved!” He seized her hand : a languid color reddened his cheek, a smile brightened faintly in his eye. As he gazed on her, it grew dim, it fixed, it closed; he sighed, and fell back on his seat. Miss Walton screamed at the sight; his aunt and the servants rushed into the room; they found them lying motionless together. His physician happened to call at that instant. Every art was tried to recover them. With Miss Walton they succeeded; but Harley was gone forever.
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110. Passing away.
“ The things we enjoy are passing, and we are passing who enjoy them.”
| asked the stars in the pomp of night,
“We have no light that hath not been given;
“ We shall fade in our beauty, the fair and bright,
From the stars of heaven and the flowers of earth,
“Passing away,” sing the breeze and rill,
Through the varying scenes of each earthly clime,
111. Story of Le Fevre.
It was some time in the summer of that year in which Dendermond was taken by the allies, when my uncle Toby was one evening taking his supper, with Trim sitting behind him at a small sideboard. I say sitting; for, in consideration of the corporal's lame knee, which sometimes gave him exquisite pain, - when my uncle Toby dined or supped alone, he would never suffer the corporal to stand; and the poor fellow's veneration for his master was such, that, with a proper artillery, my uncle Toby could have taken Dendermond itself with less trouble than he was able to gain this point over him ; for many a time, when my uncle Toby supposed the corporal's leg was at rest, he would look back, and detect him standing behind him with the most dutiful respect. This bred more little squabbles betwixt them than all other causes for five-and-twenty years together.
He was one evening sitting thus at his supper, when the landlord of a little inn in the village came into the parlor with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack. “ 'Tis for a poor gentleman
I think of the army," said the landlord, " who was taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head since, or had a desire to taste any thing - till just now, that he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a bit of thin toast. I think,” said the landlord, “it would comfort the poor fellow."
If I could neither beg, borrow, nor buy such a thing," added he, “ I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman,
he is so ill. I hope he will still mend," continued he; are all of us much concerned for him."
“ Thou art a good-natured soul, I will answer for thee,” cried my uncle Toby; "and take a couple of bottles, with my service, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more, if they will do him good. -“Though I am persuaded," said my uncle Toby, as the landlord shut the door," he is a very compassionate fellow, Trim, yet I cannot help entertaining a high opinion of his guest too; there must be something more than common in him, that, in so short a time, should win so much upon the affections of his host." “ And of his whole family," added the corporal ; " for they are all much concerned for him." "Step after the landlord, Trim," said my uncle Toby," and bid him come back to me. Say to him, I should like to know the gentleman's name.” Trim did so.
“I have quite forgot it, truly," said the landlord, coming back into the parlor, with the corporal ; “ but I can ask his son again.” “ Has he a son with him, then ?” said my uncle Toby. “A boy,” replied the landlord, " of about eleven or twelve
years age; but the poor creature has tasted almost as little as his father. He does nothing but mourn and lament for him night and day. He has not stirred from the bedside these two days."
My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before him, as the landlord gave him the account; and Trim, without being ordered, took it away, without saying one word, and, in a few minutes after, brought him his pipe and tobacco.
“Stay in the a little,” said my uncle Toby. “Trim!” said my uncle Toby, after he lighted his pipe, and smoked about a dozen whiffs. Trim came in front of his master, and made his bow; my uncle Toby smoked on, and said no more. “Corporal !” said my uncle Toby. The corporal made his bow. My uncle Toby proceeded no further, but finished his pipe.
“Trim!” said my uncle Toby, “I have a project in my
head, as it is a bad night, of wrapping myself up warm in my roquelaure, and paying a visit to this poor gentleman.” “Your lionor's roquelaure,” replied the corporal, “has not been fit to wear since the night before your honor received your wound, when we mounted guard in the trenches before the gate of St. Nicolas; and, besides, the night is so cold and rainy, that, what with the roquelaure, and what with the weather, it will be enough to give your honor your death." “I fear so," replied my uncle Toby; " but I am not at rest in my mind, Trim, since the account the landlord has given me. I wish I had not known so much of this affair," added my uncle Toby, “or that I had known more of it. How shall we manage it?” “Leave it, an't please your honor, to me," quoth the corporal. “I'll take my hat and stick, and go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I'll bring your honor a full account in an hour.” " Thou shalt go, Trim," said my uncle Toby. “I'll get it all out of his servant,” said the corporal, shutting the door
112. The Same, continued.
It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe, that Corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following account:
“ I despaired, at first,” said the corporal, “ of being able to bring back your honor any kind of intelligence concerning che
poor sick lieutenant.” “ Is he in the army, then ?” said my uncle Toby. "He is," said the corporal. "And in what regiment ?” said my uncle Toby. “I'll tell your honor," replied the corporal, "every thing straightforward as I learnt it.” “Then, Trim, I'll fill another pipe," said my uncle Toby, “and not interrupt thee; so sit down at thy ease, Trim, in the window-seat, and begin thy story again.” The