not have one iota taken from the justice--the deadly and dooming weight of
my dying curse." Here violent spasms broke on the speech of the sufferer;
and when, by medicine and his daughter's attentions, he had recovered, he
said, in a lower and calmer key:--"Is all quiet below, Constance? Are
all in bed? The landlady--the servants--our fellow-lodgers?"

"All, my father."

"Ay; then I shall die happy. Thank Heaven, you are my only nurse and
attendant. I remember the day when I was ill after one of their rude
debauches. Ill!--a sick headache--a fit of the spleen--a spoiled lapdog's
illness! Well: they wanted me that night to support one of their paltry
measures--their parliamentary measures. And I had a prince feeling my
pulse, and a duke mixing my draught, and a dozen earls sending their
doctors to me. I was of use to them then! Poor me! Read me that note,
Constance--Flamborough's note. Do you hesitate? Read it, I say!"

Constance trembled and complied.

"My dear Vernon,
"I am really au desespoir to hear of your melancholy state;--so sorry I
cannot assist you: but you know my embarrassed circumstances. By the by,
I saw his Royal Highness yesterday. 'Poor Vernon!' said he; 'would a
hundred pounds do him any good?' So we don't forget you, mon cher. Ah!
how we missed you at the Beefsteak! Never shall we know again so glorious
a bona vivant. You would laugh to hear L---- attempting to echo your old
jokes. But time presses: I must be off to the House. You know what a
motion it is! Would to Heaven you were to bring it on instead of that ass
T----. Adieu! I wish I could come and see you; but it would break my
heart. Can I send you any books from Hookham's?