CHAPTER XII

All were asleep at the cottage, when Lord Colambre arrived, except the widow, who was sitting up, waiting for him; and who had brought her dog into the house, that he might not fly at him, or bark at his return. She had a roast chicken ready for her guest, and it was—but this she never told him the only chicken she had left; all the others had been sent with the DUTY-FOWL as a present to the under-agent's lady. While he was eating his supper, which he ate with the better appetite, as he had had no dinner, the good woman took down from the shelf a pocket-book, which she gave him: 'Is not that your book?' said she. 'My boy Brian found it after you in the potato furrow, where you dropped it.'

'Thank you,' said Lord Colambre; 'there are bank notes in it, which I could not afford to lose.'

'Are there?' said she; 'he never opened it—nor I.'

Then, in answer to his inquiries about Grace and the young man, the widow answered, 'They are all in heart now, I thank ye kindly, sir, for asking; they'll sleep easy to-night anyway, and I'm in great spirits for them and myself—for all's smooth now. After we parted you, Brian saw Mr. Dennis himself about the LASE and memorandum, which he never denied, but knew nothing about. "But, be that as it may," says he, "you're improving tenants, and I'm confident my brother will consider ye; so what you'll do is, you'll give up the possession to-morrow to myself, that will call for it by cock-crow, just for form's sake; and then go up to the castle with the new LASE ready drawn, in your hand, and if all's paid off clear of the rent, and all that's due, you'll get the new LASE signed; I'll promise you that upon the word and honour of a gentleman." And there's no going beyond that, you know, sir. So my boy came home as light as a feather, and as gay as a lark, to bring us the good news; only he was afraid we might not make up the rent, guineas and all; and because he could not get paid for the work he done, on account of the mistake in the overseer's tally, I sold the cow to a neighbour—dog-cheap; but needs must, as they say, when old Nick DRIVES,' said the widow, smiling. 'Well, still it was but paper we got for the cow; then that must be gold before the agent would take or touch it so I was laying out to sell the dresser, and had taken the plates and cups, and little things off it, and my boy was lifting it out with Andy the carpenter, that was agreeing for it, when in comes Grace, all rosy, and out of breath—it's a wonder I minded her run out, and not missed her. "Mother," says she, "here's the gold for you! don't be stirring your dresser."—"And where's your gown and cloak, Grace?" says I. But I beg your pardon, sir; maybe I'm tiring you?'

Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.

'"Where's your gown and cloak, Grace!" says I.—"Gone," says she. "The cloak was too warm and heavy, and I don't doubt, mother, but it was that helped to make me faint this morning. And as to the gown, sure I've a very nice one here, that you spun for me yourself, mother; and that I prize above all the gowns ever came out of a loom; and that Brian said become me to his fancy above any gown ever he see me wear; and what could I wish for more?" Now I'd a mind to scold her for going to sell the gown unknown'st to me, but I don't know how it was, I couldn't scold her just then, so kissed her, and Brian the same, and that was what no man ever did before. And she had a mind to be angry with him, but could not, nor ought not, says I; "for he's as good as your husband now, Grace; and no man can part yees now," says I, putting their hands together. Well, I never saw her look so pretty; nor there was not a happier boy that minute on God's earth than my son, nor a happier mother than myself; and I thanked God that had given them to me; and down they both fell on their knees for my blessing, little worth as it was; and my heart's blessing they had, and I laid my hands upon them. "It's the priest you must get to do this for you to-morrow," says I. And Brian just held up the ring, to show me all was ready on his part, but could not speak. "Then there's no America any more!" said Grace low to me, and her heart was on her lips; but the colour came and went, and I was AFEARED she'd have swooned again, but not for sorrow, so I carried her off. Well, if she was not my own—but she is not my own born so I may say it—there never was a better girl, nor a more kind-hearted, nor generous; never thinking anything she could do, or give, too much for them she loved, and anything at all would do for herself; the sweetest natured and tempered both, and always was, from this high; the bond that held all together, and joy of the house.'

'Just like her namesake,' cried Lord Colambre.

'Plase your honour?'

'Is not it late?' said Lord Colambre, stretching himself and gaping; 'I've walked a great way to-day.'

The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red check bed, and wished him a very good night; not without some slight sentiment of displeasure at his gaping thus at the panegyric on her darling Grace. Before she left the room, however, her short-lived resentment vanished, upon his saying that he hoped, with her permission, to be present at the wedding of the young couple.

Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his reverence when it would be convenient to marry him; and, whilst he was gone, Mr. Dennis Garraghty came to the cottage, to receive the rent and possession. The rent was ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.

'No occasion for a receipt; for a new LASE is a receipt in full for everything.'

'Very well, sir, said the widow; 'I know nothing of law. You know best—whatever you direct—for you are acting as a friend to us now. My son got the attorney to draw the pair of new LASES yesterday, and here they are ready, all to signing.'

Mr. Dennis said his brother must settle that part of the business, and that they must carry them up to the castle; 'but first give me the possession.'

Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to him, and a bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked out the fire, and said every living creature must go out. 'It's only form of law,' said he.

'And must my lodger get up and turn out, sir?' said she. 'He must turn out, to be sure—not a living soul must be left in it, or it's no legal possession properly. Who is your lodger?'

On Lord Colambre's appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some surprise, and said, 'I thought you were lodging at Brannagan's; are not you the man who spoke to me at his house about the gold mines?'

'No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan's,' said the widow.

'Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about the gold mines at Brannagan's; but I did not like to lodge—'

'Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must walk out of this lodging now, if you please, my good friend.'

So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders, repeating, as the widow turned back and looked with some surprise and alarm, 'Only for form sake, only for form sake!' then locking the door, took the key, and put it into his pocket. The widow held out her hand for it: 'The form's gone through now, sir, is not it? Be plased to let us in again.'

'When the new lease is signed, I'll give you possession again; but not till then—for that's the law. So make away with you to the castle; and mind,' added he, winking slily, 'mind you take sealing-money with you, and something to buy gloves.'

'Oh, where will I find all that?' said the widow.

'I have it, mother; don't fret,' said Grace. 'I have it—the price of—-what I can want. [What I can do without.] So let us go off to the castle without delay. Brian will meet us on the road, you know.'

They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accompanying them. Brian met them on the road. 'Father Tom is ready, dear mother; bring her in, and he'll marry us. I'm not my own man till she's mine. Who knows what may happen?'

'Who knows? that's true,' said the widow.

'Better go to the castle first,' said Grace.

'And keep the priest waiting! You can't use his reverence so.' said Brian.

So she let him lead her into the priest's house, and she did not make any of the awkward draggings back, or ridiculous scenes of grimace sometimes exhibited on these occasions; but blushing rosy red, yet with more self-possession than could have been expected from her timid nature, she gave her hand to the man she loved, and listened with attentive devotion to the holy ceremony.

'Ah!' thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated the bride, 'shall I ever be as happy as these poor people are at this moment?' He longed to make them some little present, but all he could venture at this moment was to pay the priest's DUES.

The priest positively refused to take anything. 'They are the best couple in my parish,' said he; 'and I'll take nothing, sir, from you, a stranger and my guest.'

'Now, come what will, I'm a match for it. No trouble can touch me,' said Brian.

'Oh, don't be bragging,' said the widow.

'Whatever trouble God sends, He has given one now will help to bear it, and sure I may be thankful,' said Grace.

'Such good hearts must be happy—shall be happy!' said Lord Colambre.

'Oh, you're very kind,' said the widow, smiling; 'and I wouldn't doubt you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us.'

'I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!' cried Lord Colambre, 'whether the agent gives me encouragement or not,' added he.

It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said herself, would not have been able for it, but for a LIFT given to her by a friendly carman, whom they met on the road with an empty car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of meeting and being recognised by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question of, 'Who is at the castle?' replied, 'Mrs. Raffarty will be in it afore night; but she's on the road still. There's none but old Nick in it yet; and he's more of a NEGER than ever; for think, that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his SHISTER'S boxes and bandboxes down. If you're going to have any dealings with him, God grant ye a safe deliverance!'

'Amen!' said the widow, and her son and daughter.

Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old. Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the messy gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the gravel in lots to be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, in which, in his childhood, our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.—'And how it went, when sold!—but no matter,' said Finnucan; 'it's all alike.—It's the back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose.'

And such a yard! 'But it's no matter,' repeated Lord Colambre to himself; 'it's all alike.'

In the kitchen a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty's friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.

'Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after dinner,' says one; 'and the wine for the cook—sure there's venison,' cries another.—'Venison!—That's the way my lord's deer goes,' says a third, laughing.—'ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here to eat 'em.'—'Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you PLASE,' said the agent's cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre's face. 'There's the way to the office, if you've money to pay, up the back stairs.'

'No; up the grand staircase they must—Mr. Garraghty ordered,' said the footman; 'because the office is damp for him, and it's not there he'll see anybody to-day; but in my lady's dressing-room.'

So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp. 'Then, isn't it a pity to see them? There's my lady, and all spoiling,' said the widow.

Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent.—'Shamefully damaged!' cried he. 'Pass on, or let me pass, if you PLASE,' said one of the tenants; 'and don't be stopping the doorway.' 'I have business more nor you with the agent,' said the surveyor; 'where is he?'

'In the PRESENCE-CHAMBER,' replied another; 'where should the viceroy be but in the PRESENCE-CHAMBER?'

There was a full levee, and fine smell of greatcoats. 'Oh! would you put your hats on the silk cushions?' said the widow to some men in the doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.—'Why not? where else?' 'If the lady was in it, you wouldn't,' said she, sighing.—'No, to be sure, I wouldn't; great news! would I make no DIFFER in the presence of old Nick and my lady?' said he, in Irish. 'Have I no sense or manners, good woman, think ye?' added he, as he shook the ink out of his pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished signing his name to a paper on his knee. 'You may wait long before you get to the speech of the great man,' said another, who was working his way through numbers. They continued pushing forward, till they came within sight of Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse countenance, or a more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord Colambre had never beheld.

We forbear all further detail of this levee. 'It's all the same!' as Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery or oppression to which he was witness; and, having completely made up his mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the background, waiting till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for he was now interested only to see how she would be treated. The room gradually thinned; Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to help his brother to count the heaps of gold.

'Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting me here,' said the widow O'Neill, walking up to him; 'I'm sure you'll speak a good word for me; here's the LASES—who will I offer this to?' said she, holding the GLOVE-MONEY and SEALING-MONEY,—'for I'm strange and ashamed.'

'Oh, don't be ashamed—there's no strangeness in bringing money or taking it,' said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. 'Is this the proper compliment?'

'I hope so, sir; your honour knows best.'

'Very well,' slipping it into his private purse. 'Now, what's your business?'

'The LASES to sign—the rent's all paid up.'

'Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?'

'It was, PLASE your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little place in his pocket.'

'Then I hope he'll keep it there. YOUR little place—it's no longer yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a fool as to renew to you at this rent.'

'Mr. Dennis named the rent. But anything your honour PLASES—anything at all that we can pay.'

'Oh, it's out of the question—put it out of your head. No rent you can offer would do, for I've promised it to the surveyor.'

'Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a renewal, on the back of the OULD LASE.'

'Produce it.'

'Here's the LASE, but the promise is rubbed out.'

'Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll listen to that in a court of justice, do you think?'

'I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it.'

'Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?—What has she to do with the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray?'

'Management!—no, sir.'

'Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?'

'Oh, God forbid!—how could that be?'

'Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what my lord does not choose.'

'Well then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at all, if it was ever so with me. But be PLASED, sir, to write over to my lord, and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it.'

'Write to my lord about such a trifle—trouble him about such nonsense!'

'I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and believe me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor, if in my power, for the whole estate, nor the whole world: for there's an eye above.'

'Cant! nonsense!—Take those leases off the table; I never will sign them. Walk off; ye canting hag; it's an imposition—I will never sign them.'

'You WILL then, sir,' cried Brian, growing red with indignation; 'for the law shall make you, so it shall; and you'd as good have been civil to my mother, whatever you did—for I'll stand by her while I've life; and I know she has right, and shall have law. I saw the memorandum written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever became of it after; and will swear to it, too.'

'Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will avail in your own case in a court of justice,' continued old Nick.

'And against a gentleman of my brother's established character and property,' said St. Dennis. 'What's your mother's character against a gentleman's like his?'

'Character! take care how you go to that, anyway, sir,' cried Brian.

Grace put her hand before his mouth, to stop him. 'Grace, dear, I must speak, if I die for it; sure it's for my mother,' said the young man, struggling forward, while his mother held him back; 'I must speak.'

'Oh, he's ruin'd, I see it,' said Grace, putting her hand before her eyes, 'and he won't mind me.'

'Go on, let him go on, pray, young woman,' said Mr. Garraghty, pale with anger and fear, his lips quivering; 'I shall be happy to take down his words.'

'Write them; and may all the world read it, and welcome!' His mother and wife stopped his mouth by force.

'Write you, Dennis,' said Mr. Garraghty, giving the pen to his brother; for his hand shook so he could not form a letter. 'Write the very words, and at the top' (pointing) after warning, WITH MALICE PREPENSE.'

'Write, then—mother, Grace—let me,' cried Brian, speaking in a smothered voice, as their hands were over his mouth. 'Write then, that, if you'd either of you a character like my mother, you might defy the world; and your word would be as good as your oath.'

'OATH! mind that, Dennis,' said Mr. Garraghty.

'Oh, sir! sir! won't you stop him?' cried Grace, turning suddenly to Lord Colambre.

'Oh dear, dear, if you haven't lost your feeling for us,' cried the widow.

'Let him speak,' said Lord Colambre, in a tone of authority; 'let the voice of truth be heard.'

'TRUTH!' cried St. Dennis, and dropped the pen.

'And who the devil are you, sir?' said old Nick.

'Lord Colambre, I protest!' exclaimed a female voice; and Mrs. Raffarty at this instant appeared at the open door.

'Lord Colambre!' repeated all present, in different tones.

'My lord, I beg pardon;' continued Mrs. Raffarty, advancing as if her legs were tied; 'had I known you was down here, I would not have presumed. I'd better retire; for I see you're busy.'

'You'd best; for you're mad, sister,' said St. Dennis, pushing her back; 'and we are busy; go to your room, and keep quiet, if you can.'

'First, madam,' said Lord Colambre, going between her and the door, 'let me beg that you will consider yourself as at home in this house, whilst any circumstances make it desirable to you. The hospitality you showed me you cannot think that I now forget.'

'Oh, my lord, you're too good—how few—too kind—kinder than my own,' and bursting into tears, she escaped out of the room.

Lord Colambre returned to the party round the table, who were in various attitudes of astonishment, and with faces of fear, horror, hope, joy, doubt.

'Distress,' continued his lordship, 'however incurred, if not by vice, will always find a refuge in this house. I speak in my father's name, for I know I speak his sentiments. But never more shall vice,' said he, darting such a look at the brother agents as they felt to the backbone—'never more shall vice, shall fraud enter here.'

He paused, and there was a momentary silence.

'There spoke the true thing! and the RAEL gentleman; my own heart's satisfied,' said Brian, folding his arms, and standing erect.

'Then so is mine,' said Grace, taking breath, with a deep sigh.

The widow advancing, put on her spectacles, and, looking up close at Lord Colambre's face—'Then it's a wonder I didn't know the family likeness.'

Lord Colambre now recollecting that he still wore the old greatcoat, threw it off.

'Oh, bless him! Then now I'd know him anywhere. I'm willing to die now, for we'll all be happy.'

'My lord, since it is so—my lord, may I ask you,' said Mr. Garraghty, now sufficiently recovered to be able to articulate, but scarcely to express his ideas; 'if what your lordship hinted just now—'

'I hinted nothing, sir; I spoke plainly.'

'I beg pardon, my lord,' said old Nick;—'respecting vice, was levelled at me; because, if it was, my lord,' trying to stand erect; 'let me tell your lordship, if I could think it was—'

'If it did not hit you, sir, no matter at whom it was levelled.'

'And let me ask, my lord, if I may presume, whether, in what you suggested by the word fraud, your lordship had any particular meaning?' said St. Dennis.

'A very particular meaning, sir,—feel in your pocket for the key of this widow's house, and deliver it to her.'

'Oh, if that's all the meaning, with all the pleasure in life. I never meant to detain it longer than till the leases were signed,' said St. Dennis.

'And I'm ready to sign the leases this minute,' said the brother.

'Do it, sir, this minute; I have read them; I will be answerable to my father.'

'Oh, as to that, my lord, I have power to sign for your father.' He signed the leases; they were duly witnessed by Lord Colambre.

'I deliver this as my act and deed,' said Mr. Garraghty;—'My lord,' continued he, 'you see, at the first word from you; and had I known sooner the interest you took in the family, there would have been no difficulty; for I'd make it a principle to oblige you, my lord.'

'Oblige me!' said Lord Colambre, with disdain.

'But when gentlemen and noblemen travel INCOGNITO, and lodge in cabins,' added St. Dennis, with a satanic smile, glancing his eye on Grace, 'they have good reasons, no doubt.'

'Do not judge my heart by your own, sir,' said Lord Colambre, coolly; 'no two things in nature can, I trust, be more different. My purpose in travelling INCOGNITO has been fully answered: I was determined to see and judge how my father's estates were managed; and I have seen, compared, and judged. I have seen the difference between the Clonbrony and the Colambre property; and I shall represent what I have seen to my father.'

'As to that, my lord, if we are to come to that but I trust your lordship will suffer me to explain these matters.—Go about your business, my good friends; you have all you want;—and, my lord, after dinner, when you are cool, I hope I shall be able to make you sensible that things have been represented to your lordship in a mistaken light; and I flatter myself I shall convince you I have not only always acted the part of a friend to the family, but am particularly willing to conciliate your lordship's goodwill,' said he, sweeping the rouleaus of gold into a bag; 'any accommodation in my power, at any time.'

'I want no accommodation, sir,—were I starving, I would accept of none from you. Never can you conciliate my goodwill; for you can never deserve it.'

'If that be the case, my lord, I must conduct myself accordingly; but it's fair to warn you, before you make any representation to my Lord Clonbrony, that if he should think of changing his agent, there are accounts to be settled between us—that may be a consideration.'

'No, sir; no consideration—my father never shall be the slave of such a paltry consideration.'

'Oh, very well, my lord; you know best. If you choose to make an assumpsit, I'm sure I shall not object to the security. Your lordship will be of age soon, I know—I'm sure I'm satisfied—but,' added he with a malicious smile, 'I rather apprehend you don't know what you undertake; I only premise that the balance of accounts between us is not what can properly be called a paltry consideration.'

'On that point, perhaps, sir, you and I may differ.'

'Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if it suits your convenience.'

'Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles.'

'Dennis! the letters to the post.—When do you go to England, my lord?'

'Immediately, sir,' said Lord Colambre; his lordship saw new leases from his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty, lying on the table, unsigned.

'Immediately!' repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis, with an air of dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the window, and whispered something to his brother, who instantly left the room.

'Lord Colambre saw the post-chaise at the door, which had brought Mrs. Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing beside it; his lordship instantly threw up the sash, and holding between his finger and thumb a six-shilling piece, cried, 'Larry, my friend, let me have the horses!'

'You shall have 'em—your honour,' said Larry. Mr. Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magisterial tone. 'Larry, my brother must have the horses.'

'He can't, PLASE your honour—they're engaged.'

Half a crown! a crown!—half a guinea!' said Mr. Dennis Garraghty, raising his voice, as he increased his proffered bribe. To each offer Larry replied, 'You can't, PLASE your honour, they're engaged;'—and, looking up to the window at Lord Colambre, he said, 'as soon as they have eaten their oats, you shall have 'em.'

No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consternation. Lord Colambre ordered that Larry should have some dinner, and whilst the postillion was eating, and the horses finishing their oats, his lordship wrote the following letter to his father, which, to prevent all possibility of accident, he determined to put, with his own hand, into the post-office at Clonbrony, as he passed through the town.

MY DEAR FATHER, I hope to be with you in a few days. Lest anything should detain me on the road, I write this, to make an earnest request to you, that you will not sign any papers, or transact any farther business with Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis Garraghty, before you see your affectionate son, COLAMBRE.

The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready, and Lord Colambre, having first eaten a slice of his own venison, ran down to the carriage, followed by the thanks and blessings of the widow, her son, and daughter, who could hardly make their way after him to the chaise-door, so great was the crowd which had gathered on the report of his lordship's arrival. 'Long life to your honour! Long life to your lordship!' echoed on all sides. 'Just come, and going, are you?'

'Good-bye to you all, good people!'

'Then GOOD-BYE is the only word we wouldn't wish to hear from your honour.'

'For the sake both of landlord and tenant, I must leave you now, my good friends; but I hope to return to you at some future time.'

'God bless you! and speed ye! and a safe journey to your honour!—and a happy return to us, and soon!' cried a multitude of voices.

Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door and beckoned to the widow O'Neill, before whom others had pressed. An opening was made for her instantly.

There! that was the very way his father stood with his feet on the steps. And Miss Nugent was IN IT.'

Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say—with some difficulty recollected.

'This pocket-book,' said he, 'which your son restored to me—I intend it for your daughter—don't keep it, as your son kept it for me, without opening it. Let what is within-side,' added he, as he got into the carriage, 'replace the cloak and gown, and let all things necessary for a bride be bought; "for the bride that has all things to borrow has surely mickle to do."—Shut the door, and drive on.'

'Blessings be WID you,' cried the widow, 'and God give you grace!'

Larry drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good rate, till he got out of the great gate, and beyond the sight of the crowd; then, pulling up, he turned to Lord Colambre—'PLASE your honour, I did not know nor guess ye was my lord, when I let you have the horses; did not know who you was from Adam, I'll take my affidavit.'

'There's no occasion,' said Lord Colambre; 'I hope you don't repent letting me have the horses, now you do know who I am?'

'Oh! not at all, sure; I'm as glad as the best horse I ever crossed, that your honour is my lord—but I was only telling your honour, that you might not be looking upon me as a TIME-SERVER.'

'I do not look upon you as a TIME-SERVER, Larry; but keep on, that time may serve me.'

In two words, he explained his cause of haste; and no sooner explained than understood. Larry thundered away through the town of Clonbrony, bending over his horses, plying the whip, and lending his very soul at every lash. With much difficulty, Lord Colambre stopped him at the end of the town, at the post-office. The post was gone out-gone a quarter of an hour.

'Maybe we'll overtake the mail,' said Larry; and, as he spoke, he slid down from his seat, and darted into the public-house, reappearing, in a few moments, with a copper of ale and a horn in his hand; he and another man held open the horses' mouths, and poured the ale through the horn down their throats. 'Now, they'll go with spirit!'

And, with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made them go 'for life or death,' as he said; but in vain! At the next stage, at his own inn-door, Larry roared for fresh horses till he got them, harnessed them with his own hands, holding the six-shilling piece, which Lord Colambre had given him, in his mouth, all the while; for he could not take time to put it into his pocket.

'Speed ye! I wish I was driving you all the way, then,' said he. The other postillion was not yet ready. 'Then your honour sees,' said he, putting his head into the carriage, 'CONSARNING of them Garraghties—old Nick and St. Dennis—the best part, that is the worst part, of what I told you, proved true; and I'm glad of it, that is, I'm sorry for it—but glad your honour knows it in time. So Heaven prosper you! And may all the saints (BARRING St. Dennis) have charge of you, and all belonging to you, till we see you here again!—And when will it be?'

'I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I will do my best to send your landlord to you soon. In the meantime, my good fellow, keep away from the sign of the Horse-shoe—a man of your sense to drink and make an idiot and a brute of yourself!'

'True!—And it was only when I had lost hope I took to it—but now! Bring me the book, one of YEES, out of the landlady's parlour.—By the virtue of this book, and by all the books that ever was shut and opened, I won't touch a drop of spirits, good or bad, till I see your honour again, or some of the family, this time twelvemonth—that long I'll live on hope—but mind, if you disappoint me, I don't swear but I'll take to the whisky, for comfort, all the rest of my days. But don't be staying here, wasting your time, advising me. Bartley! take the reins, can't ye?' cried he, giving them to the fresh postillion; 'and keep on, for your life, for there's thousands of pounds depending on the race—so, off, off, Bartley, with speed of light!'

Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the roads, that, notwithstanding the rate at which our hero travelled, he arrived safely in Dublin, and just in time to put his letter into the post-office, and to sail in that night's packet. The wind was fair when Lord Colambre went on board, but before they got out of the bay it changed; they made no way all night; in the course of the next day, they had the mortification to see another packet from Dublin sail past them, and when they landed at Holyhead, were told the packet, which had left Ireland twelve hours after them, had been in an hour before them. The passengers had taken their places in the coach, and engaged what horses could be had. Lord Colambre was afraid that Mr. Garraghty was one of them; a person exactly answering his description had taken four horses, and set out half an hour before in great haste for London. Luckily, just as those who had taken their places in the mail were getting into the coach, Lord Colambre saw among them a gentleman, with whom he had been acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who was come over during the long vacation, to make a tour of pleasure in England. When Lord Colambre explained the reason he had for being in haste to reach London, he had the good-nature to give up to him his place in the coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night, and delayed not one moment, till he reached his father's house in London.

'My father at home?'

'Yes, my lord, in his own room—the agent from Ireland with him, on particular business—desired not to be interrupted—but I'll go and tell him, my lord, you are come.'

Lord Colambre ran past the servant, as he spoke—made his way into the room—found his father, Sir Terence O'Fay, and Mr. Garraghty—leases open on the table before them; a candle lighted; Sir Terence sealing; Garraghty emptying a bag of guineas on the table, and Lord Clonbrony actually with a pen in his hand, ready to sign.

As the door opened, Garraghty started back, so that half the contents of his bag rolled upon the floor.

'Stop, my dear father, I conjure you,' cried Lord Colambre, springing forward, and kneeling to his father; at the same moment snatching the pen from his hand.

Colambre! God bless you, my dear boy! at all events. But how came you here?—And what do you mean?' said his father.

'Burn it!' cried Sir Terence, pinching the sealing-wax; 'for I burnt myself with the pleasure of the surprise.'

Garraghty, without saying a word, was picking up the guineas that were scattered upon the floor.

'How fortunate I am,' cried Lord Colambre, 'to have arrived just in time to tell you, my dear father, before you put your signature to these papers, before you conclude this bargain, all I know, all I have seen, of that man!'

'Nick Garraghty, honest old Nick; do you know him, my lord?' said Sir Terence.

'Too well, sir.'

'Mr. Garraghty, what have you done to offend my son? I did not expect this,' said Lord Clonbrony.

'Upon my conscience, my lord, nothing to my knowledge,' said Mr. Garraghty, picking up the guineas; 'but showed him every civility, even so far as offering to accommodate him with cash without security; and where will you find the other agent, in Ireland or anywhere else, will do that? To my knowledge, I never did anything, by word or deed, to offend my Lord Colambre; nor could not, for I never saw him, but for ten minutes, in my days; and then he was in such a foaming passion—begging his lordship's pardon—owing to the misrepresentations he met with of me, I presume, from a parcel of blackguards that he went amongst, INCOGNITO, he would not let me or my brother Dennis say a word to set him right; but exposed me before all the tenantry, and then threw himself into a hack, and drove off here, to stop the signing of these leases, I perceive. But I trust,' concluded he, putting the replenished money-bag down with a heavy sound on the table, opposite to Lord Clonbrony,—'I trust, my Lord Clonbrony will do me justice; that's all I have to say.'

'I comprehend the force of your last argument fully, sir,' said Lord Colambre. 'May I ask how many guineas there are in the bag? I don't ask whether they are my father's or not.'

'They are to be your lordship's father's, sir, if he thinks proper,' replied Garraghty. 'How many, I don't know that I can justly, positively say—five hundred, suppose.'

'And they would be my father's if he signed those leases—I understand that perfectly, and understand that my father would lose three times that sum by the bargain.—My dear father, you start—but it is true. Is not this the rent, sir, at which you were going to let Mr. Garraghty have the land?' placing a paper before Lord Clonbrony.

'It is—the very thing.'

'And here, sir, written with my own hand, are copies of the proposals I saw, from responsible, respectable tenants, offered and refused.—Is it so, or is it not, Mr. Garraghty?—deny it, if you can.'

Mr. Garraghty grew pale; his lips quivered; he stammered; and, after a shocking convulsion of face, could at last articulate—only—

'That there was a great difference between tenant and tenant, his lordship must be sensible, especially for so large a rent.'—'As great a difference as between agent and agent, I am sensible—especially for so large a property!' said Lord Colambre, with cool contempt. 'You find, sir, I am well informed with regard to this transaction; you will find, also, that I am equally well informed with respect to every part of your conduct towards my father and his tenantry. If, in relating to him what I have seen and heard, I should make any mistakes, you are here; and I am glad you are, to set me right, and to do yourself justice.'

'Oh! as to that, I should not presume to contradict anything your lordship asserts from your own authority: where would be the use? I leave it all to your lordship. But, as it is not particularly agreeable to stay to hear one's self abused—Sir Terence! I'll thank you to hand me my hat!—And if you'll have the goodness, my Lord Clonbrony, to look over finally the accounts before morning, I'll call at your leisure to settle the balance, as you find convenient; as to the leases, I'm quite indifferent.'

So saying, he took up his money-bag.

'Well, you'll call again in the morning, Mr. Garraghty!' said Sir Terence; 'and, by that time, I hope we shall understand this misunderstanding better.'

Sir Terence pulled Lord Clonbrony's sleeve: 'Don't let him go with the money—it's much wanted!'

'Let him go,' said Lord Colambre; 'money can be had by honourable means.'

'Wheugh!—He talks as if he had the Bank of England at his command, as every young man does,' said Sir Terence.

Lord Colambre deigned no reply. Lord Clonbrony walked undecidedly between his agent and his son—looked at Sir Terence, and said nothing.

Mr. Garraghty departed; Lord Clonbrony called after him from the head of the stairs,

'I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning.' Sir Terence ran downstairs after him; Lord Colambre waited quietly for their return.

'Fifteen hundred guineas, at a stroke of a goose-quill!—That was a neat hit, narrowly missed, of honest Nick's!' said Lord Clonbrony. 'Too bad! too bad, faith!—I am much, very much obliged to you, Colambre, for that hint; by to-morrow morning we shall have him in another tune.'

'And he must double the bag, or quit,' said Sir Terence.

'Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three times five's fifteen;—fifteen hundred down, or he does not get my signature to those leases for his brother, nor get the agency of the Colambre estate.—Colambre, what more have you to tell of him? for, since he is making out his accounts against me, it is no harm to have a PER CONTRA against him that may ease my balance.'

'Very fair! very fair!' said Sir Terence. 'My lord, trust me for remembering all the charges against him—every item; and when he can't clear himself, if I don't make him buy a good character dear enough, why, say I'm a fool, and don't know the value of character, good or bad!'

'If you know the value of character, Sir Terence,' said Lord Colambre, 'you know that it is not to be bought or sold.' Then, turning from Sir Terence to his father, he gave a full and true account of all he had seen in his progress through his Irish estates; and drew a faithful picture both of the bad and good agent. Lord Clonbrony, who had benevolent feelings, and was fond of his tenantry, was touched; and, when his son ceased speaking, repeated several times—

'Rascal! rascal! How dare he use my tenants so—the O'Neills in particular!—Rascal! bad heart!-I'll have no more to do with him.' But, suddenly recollecting himself, he turned to Sir Terence, and added, 'That's sooner said than done—I'll tell you honestly, Colambre, your friend Mr. Burke may be the best man in the world—but he is the worst man to apply to for a remittance, or a loan, in a HURRY! He always tells me "he can't distress the tenants."'—'And he never, at coming into the agency even,' said Sir Terence, 'ADVANCED a good round sum to the landlord, by way of security for his good behaviour. Now honest Nick did that much for us at coming in.'

'And at going out is he not to be repaid?' said Lord Colambre.

'That's the devil!' said Lord Clonbrony; that's the very reason I can't conveniently turn him out.'

'I will make it convenient to you, sir, if you will permit me,' said Lord Colambre. 'In a few days I shall be of age, and will join with you in raising whatever sum you want, to free you from this man. Allow me to look over his account; and whatever the honest balance may be, let him have it.'

'My dear boy!' said Lord Clonbrony, 'you're a generous fellow. Fine Irish heart!—glad you're my son! But there's more, much more, that you don't know,' added he, looking at Sir Terence, who cleared his throat; and Lord Clonbrony, who was on the point of opening all his affairs to his son, stopped short.

'Colambre,' said he, 'we will not say anything more of this at present; for nothing effectual can be done till you are of age, and then we shall see all about it.'

Lord Colambre perfectly understood what his father meant, and what was meant by the clearing of Sir Terence's throat. Lord Clonbrony wanted his son to join him in opening the estate to pay his debts; and Sir Terence feared that, if Lord Colambre were abruptly told the whole sum total of the debts he would never be persuaded to join in selling or mortgaging so much of his patrimony as would be necessary for their payment. Sir Terence thought that the young man, ignorant probably of business, and unsuspicious of the state of his father's affairs, might be brought, by proper management, to any measures they desired. Lord Clonbrony wavered between the temptation to throw himself upon the generosity of his son, and the immediate convenience of borrowing a sum of money from his agent, to relieve his present embarrassments.

'Nothing can be settled,' repeated he, 'till Colambre is of age; so it does not signify talking of it.'

'Why so, sir?' said Lord Colambre. 'Though my act, in law, may not be valid, till I am of age, my promise, as a man of honour, is binding now; and, I trust, would be as satisfactory to my father as any legal deed whatever.'

'Undoubtedly, my dear boy; but—'

'But what?' said Lord Colambre, following his father's eye, which turned to Sir Terence O'Fay, as if asking his permission to explain.

'As my father's friend, sir, you ought, permit me to say, at this moment to use your influence to prevail upon him to throw aside all reserve with a son, whose warmest wish is to serve him, and to see him at ease and happy.'

'Generous, dear boy,' cried Lord Clonbrony. 'Terence, I can't stand it; but how shall I bring myself to name the amount of the debts?'

'At some time or other, I must know it,' said Lord Colambre; 'I cannot be better prepared at any moment than the present; never more disposed to give my assistance to relieve all difficulties. Blindfold, I cannot be led to any purpose, sir,' said he, looking at Sir Terence; 'the attempt would be degrading and futile. Blindfolded I will not be—but, with my eyes open, I will see, and go straight and prompt as heart can go, to my father's interest, without a look or thought to my own.'

'By St. Patrick! the spirit of a prince, and an Irish prince, spoke there,' cried Sir Terence; 'and if I'd fifty hearts, you'd have all in your hand this minute, at your service, and warm. Blindfold you! after that, the man that would attempt it DESARVES to be shot; and I'd have no sincerer pleasure in life than shooting him this moment, was he my best friend. But it's not Clonbrony, or your father, my lord, would act that way, no more than Sir Terence O'Fay—there's the schedule of the debts,' drawing a paper from his bosom; 'and I'll swear to the lot, and not a man on earth could do that but myself.'

Lord Colambre opened the paper. His father turned aside, covering his face with both his hands.

'Tut, man,' said Sir Terence; 'I know him now better than you; he will stand, you'll find, the shock of that regiment of figures—he is steel to the backbone, and proof spirit.'

'I thank you, my dear father,' said Lord Colambre, 'for trusting me thus at once with a view of the truth. At first sight it is, I acknowledge, worse than I expected; but I make no doubt that, when you allow me to examine Mr. Garraghty's accounts and Mr. Mordicai's claims, we shall be able to reduce this alarming total considerably, my dear father. You think we learn nothing but Latin and Greek at Cambridge; but you are mistaken.'

'The devil a pound, nor a penny,' said Sir Terence; 'for you have to deal with a Jew and old Nick; and I'm not a match for them. I don't know who is; and I have no hope of getting any abatement. I've looked over the accounts till I'm sick.'

'Nevertheless, you will observe that fifteen hundred guineas have been saved to my father, at one stroke, by his not signing those leases.'

'Saved to you, my lord; not your father, if you plase,' said Sir Terence. 'For now I'm upon the square with you, I must be straight as an arrow, and deal with you as the son and friend of my friend; before, I was considering you only as the son and heir, which is quite another thing, you know; accordingly, acting for your father here, I was making the best bargain against you I could; honestly, now, I tell you. I knew the value of the lands well enough; we were as sharp as Garraghty, and he knew it; we were to have had THE DIFFERENCE from him, partly in cash and partly in balance of accounts—you comprehend—and you only would have been the loser, and never would have known it, maybe, till after we all were dead and buried; and then you might have set aside Garraghty's lease easy, and no harm done to any but a rogue that DESARVED it; and, in the meantime, an accommodation to my honest friend, my lord, your father, here. But, as fate would have it, you upset all by your progress INCOGNITO through them estates. Well, it's best as it is, and I am better pleased to be as we are, trusting all to a generous son's own heart. Now put the poor father out of pain, and tell us what you'll do, my dear.'

'In one word, then,' said Lord Colambre, 'I will, upon two conditions, either join my father in levying fines to enable him to sell or mortgage whatever portion of his estate is necessary for the payment of these debts; or I will, in whatever other mode he can point out, as more agreeable or more advantageous to him, join in giving security to his creditors.'

'Dear, noble fellow!' cried Sir Terence; 'none but an Irishman could do it.'

Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate, but held his arms open to embrace his son.

'But you have not heard my conditions yet,' said Lord Colambre.

'Oh, confound the conditions!' cried Sir Terence.

'What conditions could he ask that I could refuse at this minute?' said Lord Clonbrony.

'Nor I—was it my heart's blood, and were I to be hanged for it,' cried Sir Terence. 'And what are the conditions?'

'That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from the agency.'

'And welcome, and glad to get rid of him—the rogue, the tyrant,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'and, to be beforehand with you in your next wish, put Mr. Burke into his place.'

'I'll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this minute,' cried Terry, 'with all the pleasure in life. No; it's my Lord Colambre should do that in all justice.'

'But what's your next condition? I hope it's no worse,' said Lord Clonbrony.

'That you and my mother should cease to be absentees.'

'Oh murder!' said Sir Terence; 'maybe that's not so easy; for there are two words to that bargain.'

Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was ready to return to Ireland next morning, and to promise to reside on his estate all the rest of his days; that there was nothing he desired more, provided Lady Clonbrony would consent to it; but that he could not promise for her; that she was as obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had often tried, but that there was no moving her; and that, in short, he could not promise on her part.

But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he must insist. Without this condition was granted, he would not engage to do anything.

'Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes to town; she will come up from Buxton the day you're of age to sign some papers,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'but,' added he, with a very dejected look and voice, 'if all's to depend on my Lady Clonbrony's consenting to return to Ireland, I'm as far from all hope of being at ease as ever.'

'Upon my conscience, we're all at sea again,' said Sir Terence.

Lord Colambre was silent: but in his silence there was such an air of firmness, that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir Terence were convinced entreaties would on this point be fruitless—Lord Clonbrony sighed deeply.

'But when it's ruin or safety, and her husband and all belonging to her at stake, the woman can't persist in being a mule,' said Sir Terence.

'Of whom are you talking?' said Lord Colambre.

'Of whom? Oh, I beg your lordship's pardon—I thought I was talking to my lord; but, in other words, as you are her son, I'm persuaded her ladyship, your mother, will prove herself a reasonable woman—when she sees she can't help it. So, my Lord Clonbrony, cheer up; a great deal may be done by the fear of Mordicai, and an execution, especially now the prior creditor. Since there's no reserve between you and I now, my Lord Colambre,' said Sir Terence, 'I must tell you all, and how we shambled on those months while you were in Ireland. First, Mordicai went to law, to prove I was in a conspiracy with your father, pretending to be prior creditor, to keep him off and out of his own; which, after a world of swearing and law—-law always takes time to do justice, that's one comfort—the villain proved at last to be true enough, and so cast us; and I was forced to be paid off last week. So there's no prior creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then his execution was coming down upon us, and nothing to stay it till I thought of a monthly annuity to Mordicai, in the shape of a wager. So, the morning after he cast us, I went to him: "Mr. Mordicai," says I, "you must be PLASED to see a man you've beaten so handsomely; and though I'm sore, both for myself and my friend, yet you see I can laugh still; though an execution is no laughing matter, and I'm sinsible you've one in petto in your sleeve for my friend Lord Clonbrony. But I'll lay you a wager of a hundred guineas in paper that a marriage of his son with a certain heiress, before next Lady-day, will set all to rights, and pay you with a compliment too."'

'Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such thing?'

'I did—but what was it but a wager? which is nothing but a dream; and, when lost, as I am as sinsible as you are that it must be, why, what is it, after all, but a bonus, in a gentleman-like form, to Mordicai? which, I grant you, is more than he deserves, for staying the execution till you be of age; and even for my Lady Clonbrony's sake, though I know she hates me like poison, rather than have her disturbed by an execution, I'd pay the hundred guineas this minute out of my own pocket, if I had' em in it.'

A thundering knock at the door was heard at this moment.

'Never heed it; let 'em thunder,' said Sir Terence; 'whoever it is, they won't get in; for my lord bid them let none in for their life. It's necessary for us to be very particular about the street-door now; and I advise a double chain for it, and to have the footmen well tutored to look before they run to a double rap; for a double rap might be a double trap.'

'My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord,' said a footman, throwing open the door.

'My mother! Miss Nugent!' cried Lord Colambre, springing eagerly forward.

'Colambre! here!' said his mother; 'but it's all too late now, and no matter where you are.'

Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her; and he, without considering the coldness of her manner, scarcely hearing, and not at all understanding the words she said, fixed his eyes on his cousin, who, with a countenance all radiant with affectionate joy, held out her hand to him.

'Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure!'

He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the recollection of ST. OMAR crossed his mind; he checked himself, and said something about joy and pleasure, but his countenance expressed neither; and Miss Nugent, much surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew her hand, and, turning away, left the room.

'Grace! darling!' called Lord Clonbrony, 'whither so fast, before you've given me a word or a kiss?'

She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her in his arms. 'Why must I let you go? And what makes you so pale, my dear child?'

'I am a little—a little tired. I will be with you again soon.' Her uncle let her go.

'Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed with her, by all I can see,' said Lord Clonbrony.

'My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I know what is to blame, and who is to blame,' said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone of displeasure, fixing her eyes upon her son. 'Yes, you may well look confounded, Colambre; but it is too late now—you should have known your own mind in time. I see you have heard it, then—but I am sure I don't know how; for it was only decided the day I left Buxton. The news could hardly travel faster than I did. Pray, how did you hear it?'

'Hear what, ma'am?' said Lord Colambre.

'Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married.'

'Oh, is that all, ma'am!' said our hero, much relieved.

'All! Now, Lord Colambre, you REELLY are too much for my patience. But I flatter myself you will feel, when I tell you, that it is your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, as I always prophesied, who has carried off the prize from you.'

'But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should say, that I do feel sincere pleasure in this marriage—I always wished it: my friend, Sir Arthur, from the first moment, trusted me with the secret of his attachment; he knew that he had my warm good wishes for his success; he knew that I thought most highly of the young lady; but that I never thought of her as a wife for myself.'

'And why did not you? that is the very thing I complain of,' said Lady Clonbrony. 'But it is all over now. You may set your heart at ease, for they are to be married on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst is ready to break her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for her daughter; and you, ungrateful as you are, you don't know how she wished you to be the happy man. But only conceive, after all that had passed, Miss Broadhurst had the assurance to expect I would let my niece be her bridesmaid. Oh, I flatly refused; that is, I told Grace it could not be; and, that there might be no affront to Mrs. Broadhurst, who did not deserve it, I pretended Grace had never mentioned it; but ordered my carriage, and left Buxton directly. Grace was hurt, for she is very warm in her friendships. I am sorry to hurt Grace. But REELLY I could not let her be bridesmaid;—and that, if you must know, is what vexed her, and made the tears come in her eyes, I suppose—and I'm sorry for it; but one must keep up one's dignity a little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen—and REELLY now, a very odd girl; never did anything like anybody else; settled her marriage at last in the oddest way. Grace, can you tell the particulars? I own, I am tired of the subject, and tired of my journey. My lord, I shall take leave to dine in my own room to-day,' continued her ladyship, as she quitted the room.

'I hope her ladyship did not notice me,' said Sir Terence O'Fay, coming from behind a window-curtain.

'Why, Terry, what did you hide for?' said Lord Clonbrony.

'Hide! I didn't hide, nor wouldn't from any man living, let alone any woman. [Leaving any woman out of the question.] Hide! no; but I just stood looking out of the window, behind this curtain, that my poor Lady Clonbrony might not be discomfited and shocked by the sight of one whom she can't abide, the very minute she come home. Oh, I've some consideration—it would have put her out of humour worse with both of you too; and for that there's no need, as far as I see. So I'll take myself off to my coffee-house to dine, and maybe you may get her down and into spirits again. But, for your lives, don't touch upon Ireland the night, nor till she has fairly got the better of the marriage. APROPOS—there's my wager to Mordicai gone at a slap. It's I that ought to be scolding you, my Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as well yet, not in point of purse, maybe. But I'm not one of those that think that money's everything—though, I grant you, in this world, there's nothing to be had without it—love excepted—which most people don't believe in—but not I—in particular cases. So I leave you, with my blessing, and I've a notion, at this time, that is better than my company—your most devoted—'

The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded by Lord Clonbrony to stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre as he went out of the room, he said, 'I've an eye, in going, to your heart's ease too. When I played myself, I never liked standers-by.'

Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he never could help boasting of his discoveries.

Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure; and followed his equally judicious advice, not to touch upon Ireland this night.

Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to be relieved from the necessity of talking; and he indulged himself in considering what might be passing in Miss Nugent's mind. She now appeared in remarkably good spirits; for her aunt had given her a hint that she thought her out of humour because she had not been permitted to be Miss Broadhurst's bridesmaid, and she was determined to exert herself to dispel this notion. This it was now easy for her to do, because she had, by this time, in her own imagination, found a plausible excuse for that coldness in Lord Colambre's reception of her, by which she had at first been hurt; she had settled it, that he had taken it for granted she was of his mother's sentiments respecting Miss Broadhurst's marriage, and that this idea, and perhaps the apprehension of her reproaches, had caused his embarrassment—she knew that she could easily set this misunderstanding right. Accordingly, when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep about Buxton, and was taking her afternoon's nap, as it was her custom to do when she had neither cards nor company to keep her awake, Miss Nugent began to explain her own sentiments, and to give Lord Colambre, as her aunt had desired, an account of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst's marriage had been settled.

'In the first place,' said she, 'let me assure you that I rejoice in this marriage; I think your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, is every way deserving of my friend, Miss Broadhurst; and this from me,' said she, smiling, 'is no slight eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress of their attachment; and it has been founded on the perception of such excellent qualities on each side, that I have no fear for its permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl's honourable conduct in paying his father's debts, and his generosity to his mother and sisters, whose fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my friend. It was like what she would have done herself, and like—in short, it is what few young men, as she said, of the present day would do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he felt to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of fashionable young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a very different impression on Miss Broadhurst's mind; her esteem and admiration were excited by these proofs of strength of character, and of just and good principles.'

'If you go on, you will make me envious and jealous of my friend,' said Lord Colambre.

'You jealous!—Oh, it is too late now—besides, you cannot be jealous, for you never loved.'

'I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge.'

'There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you—he loved, and my friend saw it.'

'She was clear-sighted,' said Lord Colambre.

'She was clear-sighted,' repeated Miss Nugent; 'but if you mean that she was vain, and apt to fancy people in love with her, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Never was woman, young or old, more clear-sighted to the views of those by whom she was addressed. No flattery, no fashion, could blind her judgment.'

'She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure,' said Lord Colambre.

'And a friend for life too, I am sure you will allow and she had such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might have puzzled the choice and turned the brain of any inferior person. Such a succession of lovers as she has had this summer, ever since you went to Ireland—they appeared and vanished like figures in a magic-lantern. She had three noble admirers—rank in three different forms offered themselves. First came in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank and gaming; then rank, Very high rank, over head and ears in debt. All of these were rejected; and, as they moved off; I thought Mrs. Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next came fashion, with his head, heart, and soul in his cravat—he quickly made his bow, or rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of snuff. Then came a man of gallantry, but,' whispered Miss Nugent, 'there was a mistress in the wood; and my friend could have nothing to do with that gentleman.'


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