"Mr. Denbigh, being under the necessity of leaving L---- immediately, and unable to endure the pain of taking leave, avails himself of this means of tendering his warmest thanks to Mr. Benfield, for his hospitality, and to his amiable guests for their many kindnesses. As he contemplates leaving England, he desires to wish them all a long and an affectionate farewell." "Farewell!" cried Mr. Benfield; "farewell--does he say farewell, John? Here, Peter, run--no, you are too old--John, run--bring my hat; I'll go myself to the village--some love-quarrel--Emmy sick--and Denbigh going away--yes--yes, I did so myself--Lady Juliana, poor dear soul, she was a long time before she could forget it--but Peter"--Peter had disappeared the instant the letter was finished, and he was quickly followed by John. Sir Edward and Lady Moseley were lost in amazement at this sudden and unexpected movement of Denbigh, and the breast of each of the affectionate parents was filled with a vague apprehension that the peace of mind of another child was at stake. Jane felt a renewal of her woes, in the anticipation of something similar for her sister--for the fancy of Jane was yet active, and she did not cease to consider the defection of Egerton a kind of unmerited misfortune and fatality, instead of a probable consequence of want of principle. Like Mr. Benfield, she was in danger of raising an ideal idol, and of spending the remainder of her days in devotion to qualities, rarely if ever found identified with a person that never had existed. The old gentleman was entirely engrossed by a different object; and having in his own opinion decided there must have been one of those misunderstandings which sometimes had occurred to himself and Lady Juliana, he quietly composed himself to eat his salad at the supper table: on turning his head, however, in quest of his first glass of wine, he observed Peter standing quietly by the sideboard with the favorite goggles over his eyes. Now Peter was troubled with two kinds of debility about his organs of vision; one was age and natural weakness, while the other proceeded more directly from the heart. His master knew of these facts, and he took the alarm. Again the wine-glass dropped from his nerveless hand, as he said in a trembling tone, "Peter, I thought you went"-- "Yes, master," said Peter, laconically. "You saw him, Peter--will he return?" Peter was busily occupied at his glasses, although no one was dry. "Peter," repeated Mr. Benfield, rising from his seat; "is he coming in time for supper?" Peter was obliged to reply, and deliberately uncasing his eyes and blowing his nose, he was on the point of opening his mouth, as John came into the room, and threw himself into a chair with an air of great vexation. Peter pointed to the young gentleman in silence, and retired. "John," cried Sir Edward, "where is Denbigh?" "Gone, sir." "Gone!"