In the end of January his more lively powers were called out by the happy
union of Edward Williams, the son of his host, with Cicely Jopson. Our
hero would not cloud with sorrow the festivity attending the wedding of
two persons to whom he was so highly obliged. He therefore exerted
himself, danced, sung, played at the various games of the day, and was
the blithest of the company. The next morning, however, he had more
serious matters to think of.
The clergyman who had married the young couple was so much pleased with
the supposed student of divinity, that he came next day from Penrith on
purpose to pay him a visit. This might have been a puzzling chapter had
he entered into any examination of our hero's supposed theological
studies; but fortunately he loved better to hear and communicate the news
of the day. He brought with him two or three old newspapers, in one of
which Edward found a piece of intelligence that soon rendered him deaf to
every word which the Reverend Mr. Twigtythe was saying upon the news from
the north, and the prospect of the Duke's speedily overtaking and
crushing the rebels. This was an article in these, or nearly these
words:--
'Died at his house, in Hill Street, Berkeley Square, upon the 10th inst.
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