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I'll hold my tongue, and let the storm subside; For when he calls me Lady Achinmore, Reply is worse than useless.

Methinks the lady tarries in her chamber.

To lay aside her travelling attire, And put her robe or fashion'd mantua on, Requires some time.

And where is Malcolm? Surely he should be In readiness, for very decency, To bid a stranger lady welcome here.

He will appear ere long, and is, perhaps, Attending on her brother.

No, he is not. I saw young Denison walk forth alone, As if to look for him.

Here comes the lady.

Ah, gentle lady! were I half the man