This moment return'd from regaling myself with the happy family:—I mean Sir James and Lady Powis, with their joyful inmates.—Mr. and Mrs. Powis are set out for London.—As an addition to their felicity, Lady Powis had a letter from her grand-daughter the instant they were stepping into the chaise.
For one hour I am at your command:—take, then, the particulars which I was incapable of giving you by John.—
I was sitting in the library-window, talking to Mr. Watson; the Ladies, Sir James, and Mr. Morgan, in the dressing-room, when I saw John riding down the great road a full gallop.—At first I thought Lord Darcey had been dead; then, again, consider'd his faithful servant would not have come post with the news:—however, I had not patience to go through the house, but lifting up a sash, jump'd out before he could reach the stable yard.—Without speaking, I enquired of his face what tidings; and was answer'd by a broad grin. I had nothing to fear from his message.
Well, John, said I, running up to him,—how is your Lord? how is Mr. Molesworth?—
Better, I thank God, Sir;—better, I thank God! With that he turned his horse, and was riding across the lawn.—
Zounds, John, where are you going?—where are you going?
Follow me, Sir;—follow me (setting up a brisk trot). If you kill me, I dare not deliver letter or message before we are at a distance from the Abbey.
I thought him mad, but kept on by the side of his horse 'till we came to the gate of a meadow, where he dismounted.
Now, Sir,' said he, with a look that bespoke his consequence,—have patience, whilst I tie up my horse.
Patience, John! (and I swore at him) I am out of all patience.