-- "Nay, sir," answered Dowling,
"I am sure I did not desire them to tell an untruth;-- nor should I
have said what I did, unless it had been to oblige you."-- "You would
not have thought, I believe," says Allworthy, "to have obliged me, had
you known that this Mr. Jones was my own nephew."-- "I am sure, sir,"
answered he, "it did not become me to take any notice of what I
thought you desired to conceal."- "How!" cries Allworthy, "and did
you know it then?"- "Nay, sir," answered Dowling, "if your worship
bids me speak the truth, I am sure I shall do it.- Indeed, sir, I did
know it; for they were almost the last words which Madam Blifil ever
spoke, which she mentioned to me as I stood alone by her bedside, when
she delivered me the letter I brought your worship from her."- "What
letter?" cries Allworthy.- "The letter, sir," answered Dowling,
"which I brought from Salisbury, and which I delivered into the
hands of Mr. Blifil."-- "O heavens!" cries Allworthy: "Well, and what
were the words? What did my sister say to you?"- "She took me by the
hand," answered he, "and, as she delivered me the letter, said, 'I
scarce know what I have written. Tell my brother, Mr. Jones is his
nephew- He is my son.- Bless him,' says she, and then fell backward,
as if dying away. I presently called in the people, and she never
spoke more to me, and died within a few minutes afterwards."-
Allworthy stood a minute silent, lifting up his eyes; and then,
turning to Dowling, said, "How came you, sir, not to deliver me this
message?" "Your worship," answered he, "must remember that you was at
that time ill in bed; and, being in a violent hurry, as indeed I
always am, I delivered the letter and message to Mr.
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