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Rh my father’s wih to ee me happy—If then you love me as you ay, I will marry; and will be happy—but only with you.—I will tell him this.—At firt he will tart; then grow angry; then be in a paion—In his paion he will call me “undutiful:” but he will oon recollect himelf, and reume his uual miles, aying “Well, well, if he love you, and you love him, in the name of heaven, let it be.” Then I hall hug him round the neck, kis his hands, run away from him, and fly to you; it will oon be known that I am your bride, the whole village will come to wih me joy, and heaven’s bleing will follow.

Ah! is it you?

Without, vanity, I have taken the liberty to enter this apartment the moment the good news reached my ears.

What news?

Pardon an old ervant, your father’s old butler, gracious lady, who has had the honour to carry the baron in his arms—and afterwards with humble ubmiffion to receive many a box o’ the ear from you—if he thinks it his duty to make his congratulations with due reverence on this happy day, and to join with the mues in harmonious tunes on the lyre.

Oh! my good butler, I am not in a humour to liten to the mues, and your lyre. Rh