Well, captain, I will go;—­I will do any thing you desire me, since you are so good to say you will not leave us.

But, notwithstanding his fair promise, I never expected to get him within the doors.—­He was shifting from side to side:—­sometimes he would stand still,—­sometimes attempt to retreat.—­When we were just at the house, a servant appear’d:—­of whom he enquir’d, if Mr. and Mrs. Powis were return’d; and was inform’d the latter was within;—­the former gone out in pursuit of us.  We likewise found the Ladies were with Sir James in the library.  I sent in my name:  it was in vain for me to expect any introduction from my companion.

Mrs. Powis flew to meet me at the door:—­Mr. Morgan lifted up his eyes, and shook his head.—­I never was so put to it:—­I knew not what to say; or how to look.—­Welcome, Mr. Risby, said the amiable, unfortunate, unsuspecting mother;—­doubly welcome at this happy juncture.—­Let me lead you to parents, introducing me to Sir James and Lady Powis, from whom I have receiv’d all my felicity.

You need not be told my reception:—­it is sufficient that you know Sir James and her Ladyship.—­My eyes instantly turn’d on the venerable chaplin:  I thought I never discover’d so much of the angel in a human form.

Mrs. Powis ask’d me a thousand questions;—­except answering them, I sat stupidly silent.—­It was not so with Mr. Morgan:  he walk’d, or rather ran up and down;—­his eyes fix’d on the floor,—­his lips in motion.—­The Ladies spoke to him:  he did not answer; and I could perceive them look on each other with surprize.

Mr. Powis enter’d:—­the room seem’d to lift up:—­I quite rambled when I rose to receive his salute.—­Mr. Morgan was giving me the slip.—­I look’d at him significantly,—­then at Mr. Watson,—­as much as to say, Take him out; acquaint him with the sorrowful tidings.—­He understood the hint, and immediately they withdrew together.

Come, dear Risby, pluck up, said Mr. Powis:—­do not you, my friend, be the only low-spirited person amongst us.—­I fear Mr. Risby is not well, return’d Lady Powis.—­We must not expect to see every one in high spirits, because we are:—­our blessings must be consider’d as very singular.—­You have not mention’d Fanny to your friends.

Indeed, Madam, I have, replied he.—­Risby knows, I every minute expect my belov’d daughter.—­But tell me, Dick;—­tell me, my friend;—­all present are myself;—­fear not to be candid;—­what accident has thrown a cloud of sadness over your once chearful countenance?—­Can I assist you?—­My advice, my interest, my purse are all your own.—­Nay, dear Risby, you must not turn from me.—­I did turn, I could hold it no longer.—­

Pray Sir, said Mrs. Powis, do speak;—­do command us; and she condescended to lay her hand on mine—­Lady Powis, Sir James too, both intreated I would suffer them to make me happy.—­Dear worthy creatures, how my heart bled! how it still bleeds for them!—­