She felt like a dried-up old woman. I have something that weighs heavily upon my mind. Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. I’m okay. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play.
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