ABSTRACT
Ned having thus unbosomed himself to his father, found an in nite load of anxiety moved from his breast, and a secret spring of comfort began to rise in his soul, that seemed to promise the return of peace, though he knew not from what quarter she was to come. Sleep too, who like a false friend had forsaken him the moment he was in adversity, was pleased this night to revisit him, and sealed his eyelids in such profound repose as steeped all his senses in forgetfulness. Not so the worthy curate, who, notwithstanding the pleasantry with which he treated Ned’s passion to himself, was yet sincerely alarmed for its consequences. He knew the irresistible fury with which love blazes in some bosoms, and he more than suspected that Ned’s was stored/ with whatever is usually supposed to add fuel to that ame.
