Frederick sat on the sofa by his uncle, and held his hand while he spoke. When he paused, the general clasped him round the neck, and concealing his tears, which were flowing fast, by leaning his head on his nephew’s shoulder, he exclaimed, “There I recognize the son of Henry Douglas! Yes, Frederick, you are worthy of the father and the mother from whom you spring. Your fine disposition shall be indulged, though not in exactly the manner which you suggest. _You_ shall be lord of Marsden: but I promise you to take care of Arthur by leaving him such a sum, as shall free his estate from a portion, at least, of its incumbrances; and now, dear boy, leave me; I must not lose time, and I am anxious to see Mr. Peltry. Say nothing, I charge you, of this conversation to your mother and sisters, I know them too well not to be assured that the recital of what has passed between us, would give them pain, and I wish to spare them every uneasiness in my power to prevent them from suffering.” Your young friend then left the room, the solicitor was sent for, and such testamentary arrangements were made by this interesting being, who has just come to make us feel the full value of what we are about to lose, as reflect the highest honour on his justice and impartiality. We shall soon set out, and I feel a mournful presentiment that we shall return to England a diminished number. The progress of my poor friend’s disease is very slow, and imperceptible, and he has intervals of apparent improvement, so encouraging to our hopes, that had experience not frequently proved how delusive are these temporary amendments, we should be led from time to time to increase the measure of disappointment by giving way to fallacious expectations. I am summoned to attend him in an airing, and must say adieu. Your faithful friend, ED. OTWAY. LETTER XXXIV. MRS. DOUGLAS TO THE REV. MR. OLIPHANT. My very dear good Friend, If my pen had kept pace with my heart, my congratulations would have reached you long ere this; but you know me too well to doubt their truth; and it would be equally injurious to your confidence, and my sincerity, were I to expend the short time I allow myself for writing, in apologies which are unnecessary.