'I will share a prison with you, if such he
the dreadful alternative. I will labour for your support; but do
not--do not leave me.'
Beaufort shook her from him with a violence which threw her to the
ground. 'Go, wretched girl!' he vociferated as he descended the
stairs; 'you have been _my_ ruin.' It was the last words he
addressed to her--they met no more.
Scarcely allowing herself to believe that her father would not repent
of his determination to leave the country, Amy awaited with intense
anxiety the event of the evening. The shades of twilight fell, but
he appeared not. The guests he had invited arrived; still he did not
return. She was obliged to send an apology for her absence; for she
was really ill, and felt unequal to the trial of meeting the baronet
in her present agitated state of mind.
The morning brought a confirmation of her worst fears. A rumour of
Beaufort's sudden flight had gone abroad, owing to his absence from
his guests; and the consequence was, that creditors poured in from
all quarters.
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