distracts me! To have him torn at midnight from me! A loathsome
prison his habitation! A cold damp room his lodging! The bleak
winds, perhaps, blowing upon his pillow! No fond wife to lull him to
his rest! and no reflections but to wound and tear him!--'Tis too
horrible! I wanted love for him, or they had not forced him from me.
They should have parted soul and body first. I was too tame.

_Char._ You must not talk so. All that we could we did; and Jarvis
did the rest. The faithful creature will give him comfort. Why does
he delay coming?

_Mrs. Bev._ And there's another fear. His poor master may be
claiming the last kind office from him--His heart perhaps is breaking.

_Char._ See where he comes!--His looks are chearful too.


SCENE III.

_Enter JARVIS._

_Mrs. Bev._ Are tears then chearful? Alas, he weeps! Speak to him
Charlotte: I have no tongue to ask him questions.

_Char._ How does your master, Jarvis?

_Jar._ I am old and foolish, madam; and tears will come before my
words--But don't You weep. (_To Mrs. Beverley._) I have a tale of
joy for you.