Lucinda Osburn: A Novel ...

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Whitestone, Byrne, Lewis, Jones, Halpen., 1787
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Page 216 - Heaven denies me the confolation of yourfelf to fupport my fpirits in this trying hour, fhall fupply your loved place." She took it from its cafe, with a locket, in which was fome of her mother's hair, mixed ,-with fome of her father's.^ a ring too of...
Page 218 - Forgive me, my Lord, for having fo long delayed to acquaint you with the truth; I referved it till after I had given you my hand; flattering myfelf, revealing it then would be an Agreeable furprife, not only to you, but feme other of my kind friends:—it was not, my Lord —bis name was Afton. Overpowered with...
Page 217 - I never faw her fo awkward.—Every one fmiled at this fally, and faw my motive ;— I wifhed to break the formality of the fcene :—- But ah!
Page 216 - I think; come, produce him, child ; as he fhall pofitively go on : fince we cannot have him with us on this joyous occafion, I am determined his refemblance feall be of the party; fo get up and fetch it.
Page 217 - For God's fake ! tell me, my beloved creature, where you got this picture !" with fuch emotions, that his voice faultered as he fpoke, and his colour changed at every word.
Page 217 - Tent for us already. She was ftill fiddling about them, when we entered the drawing-room, glad of any employment I believe as an excufe for for not looking at the company : Lord Lcinfter flew to lead her to a feat.
Page 218 - Afton, Afton!" exclaimed he, clafping the dear terrified creature to his heart; " great God of heaven and .earth, what do I bear! do I then live to hold thee, thus, my darling child! my dear, my long loft, my long lamented daughter!
Page 218 - Your father! exclaimed his Lordfhip, raifing his eyes to heaven, and clafpmg his hands with the utmoft aftonifhment in bis countenance :—" Your -father !" fakl he, again and again, feizing her hand, and fixing his eyes upon it...
Page 216 - What now, my dear !—?— did .you thenfimpjy imagine the hours were to' lland ftill to-day ?— My life for it, my Lord is .at this moment chiding them for the flownsfs of their motions.-— Come, come, every foul is waiting for us, and have been this hour.

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