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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

He
must be here without the loss of one moment.'
There intervened nearly a quarter of an hour, during which whenever he
recollected her, Uncle Silas treated the young lady with a hyper-refined
and ceremonious politeness, which appeared to make her uneasy, and even a
little shy, and certainly prevented a renewal of those lamentations and
invectives which he had heard faintly from the stair-head.
But for the most part Uncle Silas seemed to forget us and his book, and all
that surrounded him, lying back in the corner of his sofa, his chin upon
his breast, and such a fearful shade and carving on his features as made me
prefer looking in any direction but his.
At length we heard the tread of Dudley's thick boots on the oak boards,
and faint and muffled the sound of his voice as he cross-examined old Wyat
before entering the chamber of audience.
I think he suspected quite another visitor, and had no expectation of
seeing the particular young lady, who rose from her chair as he entered, in
an opportune flood of tears, crying--
'Oh, Dudley, Dudley!--oh, Dudley, could you? Oh, Dudley, your own poor Sal!
You could not--you would not--your lawful wife!'
This and a good deal more, with cheeks that streamed like a window-pane in
a thunder-shower, spoke Sarah Matilda with all her oratory, working his
arm, which she clung to, up and down all the time, like the handle of a
pump.


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