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144 THE LITTLE BLACK PORTER. settlement, and in a clear and distinct manner, proceeded to read over its contents occasionally pausing to translate its technical provisoes into common sense, and enjoining the young people boldly to mention any objections that might strike them to the language of the deed, so as to afford him an opportunity of explaining them away as they occurred. In the course of a couple of hours, he had gone through the drudgery of perusing half a dozen skins of parchment; and the gardener and Patty were called in to witness the execution of the deed by the young couple, and Dr. Plympton and Adam Burdock as trustees to the settlement.

It was a moment of interest: -George and the Doctor advanced to lead Isabel to the table; she started from her chair as they approached, hurried towards the deed, and snatched the pen which the attorney gallantly offered for her use. He guided her hand to the seal, against which she was to set her name; but the pen rested motionless on the parchment. After a moment's pause, the attorney looked up: Isabel's face, which had previously been exceedingly pale, was now a deep crimson; her lips quivered; her eyes were fixed, apparently, upon some object that had appeared at the door of the room; and relinquishing her hold of the pen, she faintly articulated,” Forgive me, George Father, forgive me but I cannot do it!”

Following the direction of her eyes, Burdock turned round while Isabel was speaking, and, to his surprise, beheld the Little Black Porter, who stood bowing and grinning at the door.

George Wharton said a few words to encourage Isabel, and supported her with his arm; and her father, with clasped hands, repeated, in a sorrowful tone,” Cannot do it!”

“No no,” said Isabel; “never, father, never; -while he lives and loves me.”

“He, child! Whom mean you?“ exclaimed the old man.

“Godfrey Fairfax,” replied Isabel tremulously.

Her head dropped on her shoulder as she spoke; but though she was evidently fainting, George withdrew his hand from her waist, with an exclamation of deep disgust; and she would have sunk on the floor, had not the Little Black Porter, who had been gradually advancing, now sprung suddenly forward, and, pushing young Wharton aside, received her in his arms. The attention of George and the Doctor had been so rivetted on Isabel, that they were not aware of Devalle's presence until this moment. George no sooner beheld him, than he rushed out of the room; the astonished Doctor staggered to a chair; and the two servants, instead of assisting their mistress, stood motionless spectators of the scene. Burdock alone seemed to retain perfect possession of his senses: he requested the gardener to fetch the usual restoratives, and gently reproached Patty for her neglect.

While Patty, who now became very alert and clamorous, relieved the Little Black Porter from the burthen which he willingly supported, the attorney suggested to Doctor Plympton, the propriety of obtaining possession of a letter, the end of which was peeping out of Isabel's bosom, before she recovered; but the Doctor sat, heedless of his remark, gazing at his pale and inanimate child. Burdock, therefore, without loss of time, moved cautiously towards Isabel, and without being detected even by the waiting maid, drew the letter forth. At that instant Isabel opened her eyes, and gradually recovered her senses. She intimated that she was perfectly aware of what Burdock had done; and, after requesting that the letter might be handed to her father, with the assistance of Patty she retired from the room.

The Little Black Porter was following Isabel and Patty as closely as possible, and had already placed one foot outside the door, when Doctor Plympton peremptorily ordered him to come back. Devalle returned, bowing very obsequiously; and when he had arrived within a pace or two of the Doctor's chair, with a strange mixture of humility and impudence, he inquired what were the honoured gentleman's commands.

The Doctor had entirely laid aside his usual suavity of deportment, and, in a loud voice, accompanied with violent gesticulation, he thus addressed the ever smiling object of his wrath: “ Thou fell destroyer of my peace! -what art thou? Art thou Incubus, Succubus, or my evil spirit? Who sent thee? In what does thy influence over my child consist? Why am I tortured by thy visitation? -Speak explain to me unfold thy secret -or I shall forget my character, and do I know not what.”

“Pray be moderate, my dear friend,” said Burdock, interposing his person between the Doctor and Devalle.

“Ay, ay that is wisely said pray be moderate, my dear friend,” repeated Devalle; “ we are all like the chaff which we blow away with the breath of our own nostrils. Be calm be calm: let us be rational, and show our greatest attribute. A man that is a slave to passion, is worse than a negro in a plantation; -he's a wild beast. I don't wish to be rude, for life is short; and more than one great man has been cut off by a cucumber: but I must observe, that a passionate gentleman is very likely to make holes in his manners. What says our legal friend? Cæsar Devalle will feel honoured in being permitted utterly to abandon himself to the good gentleman's opinion. Arbitration against argument always has my humble voice: and if a man wishes to get well through the world, civility is the best horse he can ride.”

“If your observations are addressed to me,” said the attorney,” they are unwelcome. Restrict your discourse to plain answers to such questions as I shall put to you. Now attend: did you deliver this letter last night to Miss Plympton?“

“Why does the gentleman ask?” “I suspect you did.”

“Avow or deny it, sirrah! at once,” exclaimed the Doctor.

“Oh, pardon me there,” replied Devalle; “we