come back, for the young lord's not with him, poor crature. William says, he raally thinks he's right down crazy, more pity, on account of Master Arthur being drowned—not but he may be alive, after all."
Lord Rotheles read William's letter, and saw very clearly, however obtuse the poor fellow's expression, that his heart was penetrated with compassion for his master and the family; and, not considering, as his sister would have done, that it would be derogatory to share a plebeian's feelings, he fairly gave them way, allowed them to conquer his habitual indolence, and immediately proposed to Lady Rotheles to take a trip to Exeter, observing, "that a month in Devonshire, at that season, did every body good."
The lady was decidedly of opinion that a month any where did so, and she so facilitated affairs that they set out the following morning, and, by the aid of post-horses, accomplished their journey with a facility surprising to themselves; and the delight with which they were received, the gratitude felt for a movement so friendly, would have repaid the ailing peer for ten times the exertion.
Nor was the affair less agreeable to his lady, for she had been afraid of being called to London by Lady Anne's illness, as she never believed any of her assertions as to the improvement her health had evinced; and, although she was perfectly willing
