" And seizing her hand he pressed it to his lips. "Forgive me,
charmer," cried he, "I am an old fellow. I will do you no harm."
Delia, though pleased with the behaviour of her intended father-in-law,
dared not yet discover herself to him. In the afternoon, Mr. Godfrey, and
Sir William Twyford, arrived. Damon, agitated as he was by the most
dreadful images that a troubled fancy could suggest, appeared in the
morning in a high fever. Instead of being able to hasten to the mistress
of his soul, he was confined to his bed, and attended by physicians.
"Ha," cried lord Thomas, as soon as he saw the baronet, "and who sent for
you? What do you want? I think, Sir, you are the gentleman to whom I am
obliged for telling my son, that duty to parents is a baby prejudice, that
obstinacy is a heroic virtue, and that fortune, fame, and friends, are all
to be sacrificed to the whining passion, which, I think, you call love."
"My lord," replied the baronet, "I have done nothing, of which I feel any
reason to be ashamed. But a subject more pressing calls for my immediate
attention." Then turning to Delia, "Give me leave to congratulate you,
madam, and heaven can tell how heartily I do it, upon the generous and
happy interposition of Mr. Godfrey." "And pray," interrupted lord Thomas,
"how came you acquainted with that lady?" "Oh, tell me," cried Delia, with
an impatience not to be restrained by modes and forms, "tell me, how does
my Damon? Why is he not here? Alas, I fear"--"Fear nothing," cried the
baronet.
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