spoke, "a
vague, dull feeling of dread, a sensation of coming evil, which tells
me some misfortune is at hand, some crisis of my fate approaching. I
daresay you consider all this very silly and romantic, Mr. Fairlegh; but
if you knew how everything I have most feared, most sought to avoid,
has invariably been forced upon me, you would make allowance for me--you
would pity me."

What answer I should have made to this appeal, had not Fate interposed
in the person of old Mr. Coleman (who seated himself on the other side
of Miss Saville, and began talking about the state of the roads), it is
impossible to say. As it was my only reply was by a glance, which, if
it failed to convince her that I pitied her with a depth and intensity
which approached alarmingly near the kindred emotion, love, must have
been singularly inexpressive. And the evening came to an end, as all
evenings, however long, are sure to do at last; and in due course I went
to bed, but not to sleep, for Clara Saville and her forebodings ran riot
in my brain, and effectually banished the "soft restorer," till such
time as that early egotist the cock began singing his own praises to his
numerous wives, when I fell into a doze, with a strong idea that I had
got a presentiment myself, though of what nature, or when the event
(if event it was) was likely to "come off," I had not the most distant
notion.

The post-bag arrived while we were at breakfast the next morning; and
it so happened that I was the only one of the party for whom it did not
contain a letter. Having nothing, therefore, to occupy my attention, and
being seated exactly opposite Clara Saville, I could scarcely fail to
observe the effect produced by one which Mr. Coleman had handed to her.
When her eye first fell on the writing she gave a slight start, and a
flush (I could not decide whether of pleasure or anger) mounted to her
brow. As she perused the contents she grew deadly pale, and I feared
she was about to faint: recovering herself, ~277~~ however, by a strong
effort, she read steadily to the end, quietly refolded the letter, and,
placing it in a pocket in her dress, apparently resumed her breakfast--I
say apparently, for I noticed that, although she busied herself with
what was on her plate, it remained untasted, and she took the earliest
opportunity, as soon as the meal was concluded, of leaving the room.

"I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me till after lunch, old fellow,"
said Coleman,