"Believe me--believe me, mother; for I speak of what I know. Scorn them--quit them! Return to an unsophisticated people--to poor, but grateful hearts, still warm with the remembrance of your kindness, still blessing you for favours long since conferred, ever praying to see you once more. Believe me, for I speak of what I know--your son has heard these prayers, has felt these blessings. Here! at my heart felt, and still feel them, when I was not known to be your son, in the cottage of the widow O'Neil."

"Oh, did you see the widow O'Neil! and does she remember me?" said Lady Clonbrony.

"Remember you! and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept in the bed--I would tell you more, but I cannot."

"Well! I never should have thought they would have remembered me so long! poor people!" said Lady Clonbrony.

"I thought all in Ireland must have forgotten me, it is now so long since I was at home."

"You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can answer for that.

Return home, my dearest mother--let me see you once more among your natural friends, beloved, respected, happy!"

"Oh, return! let us return home!" cried Miss Nugent, with a voice of great emotion. "Return, let us return home! My beloved aunt, speak to us! say that you grant our request!" She kneeled beside Lord Colambre, as she spoke.

"Is it possible to resist that voice, that look?" thought Lord Colambre.

"If any body knew," said Lady Clonbrony, "if any body could conceive, how I detest the sight, the thoughts of that old yellow damask furniture, in the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle--"

"Good Heavens!" cried Lord Colambre, starting up, and looking at his mother in stupified astonishment; "is _that_ what you are thinking of, ma'am?"

"The yellow damask furniture!" said her niece, smiling. "Oh, if that's all, that shall never offend your eyes again. Aunt, my painted velvet chairs are finished; and trust the furnishing that room to me. The legacy lately left me cannot be better applied--you shall see how beautifully it will be furnished."

"Oh, if I had money, I should like to do it myself; but it would take an immensity to new furnish Clonbrony Castle properly."

"The furniture in this house," said Miss Nugent, looking round--

"Would do a great deal towards it, I declare," cried Lady Clonbrony; "that never struck me before, Grace, I protest--and what would not suit one might sell or exchange here--and it would be a great amus.e.m.e.nt to me--and I should like to set the fashion of something better in that country. And I declare now, I should like to see those poor people, and that widow O'Neil. I do a.s.sure you, I think I was happier at home; only that one gets, I don't know how, a notion, one's n.o.body out of Lon'on. But, after all, there's many drawbacks in Lon'on--and many people are very impertinent, I'll allow--and if there's a woman in the world I hate, it is Mrs. Dareville--and, if I was leaving Lon'on, I should not regret Lady Langdale neither--and Lady St. James is as cold as a stone. Colambre may well say _frozen circles_--these sort of people are really very cold, and have, I do believe, no hearts. I don't verily think there is one of them would regret me more--Hey! let me see, Dublin--the winter--Merrion-square--new furnished--and the summer--Clonbrony Castle!"

Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till her mind should have worked itself clear. One great obstacle had been removed; and now that the yellow damask had been taken out of her imagination, they no longer despaired.

Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room. "What hopes?--any? if not, let me go." He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony's countenance--hope in the face of his son and niece. "My dear, dear Lady Clonbrony, make us all happy by one word," said he, kissing her.

"You never kissed me so since we left Ireland before," said Lady Clonbrony. "Well, since it must be so, let us go," said she.

"Did I ever see such joy!" said Lord Clonbrony, clasping his hands: "I never expected such joy in my life!--I must go and tell poor Terry!"

and off he ran.

"And now, since we are to go," said Lady Clonbrony, "pray let us go immediately, before the thing gets wind, else I shall have Mrs.

Dareville, and Lady Langdale, and Lady St. James, and all the world, coming to condole with me, just to satisfy their own curiosity: and then, Miss Pratt, who hears every thing that every body says, and more than they say, will come and tell me how it is reported every where that we are ruined. Oh! I never could bear to stay and hear all this.

I'll tell you what I'll do--you are to be of age soon, Colambre,--very well, there are some papers for me to sign,--I must stay to put my name to them, and, that done, that minute I'll leave you and Lord Clonbrony to settle all the rest; and I'll get into my carriage, with Grace, and go down to Buxton again; where you can come for me, and take me up, when you're all ready to go to Ireland--and we shall be so far on our way. Colambre, what do you say to this?"

"That, if you like it, madam," said he, giving one hasty glance at Miss Nugent, and withdrawing his eyes, "it is the best possible arrangement."

"So," thought Grace, "that is the best possible arrangement which takes us away."

"If I like it!" said Lady Clonbrony; "to be sure I do, or I should not propose it. What is Colambre thinking of? I know, Grace, at all events, what you and I must think of--of having the furniture packed up, and settling what's to go, and what's to be exchanged, and all that. Now, my dear, go and write a note directly to Mr. Soho, and bid him come himself, immediately: and we'll go and make out a catalogue this instant of what furniture I will have packed."

So with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired. "I go to my business, Colambre: and I leaven you to settle yours in peace."

In peace!--Never was our hero's mind less at peace than at this moment. The more his heart felt that it was painful, the more his reason told him it was necessary that he should part from Grace Nugent. To his union with her there was an obstacle which his prudence told him ought to be insurmountable; yet he felt that, during the few days he had been with her, the few hours he had been near her, he had, with his utmost power over himself, scarcely been master of his pa.s.sion, or capable of concealing its object. It could not have been done but for her perfect simplicity and innocence. But how could this be supported on his part? How could he venture to live with this charming girl? How could he settle at home? What resource?

His mind turned towards the army: he thought that abroad, and in active life, he should lose all the painful recollections, and drive from his heart all the sentiments, which could now be only a source of unavailing regret. But his mother--his mother, who had now yielded her own taste to his entreaties, for the good of her family--she expected him to return and live with her in Ireland. Though not actually promised or specified, he knew that she took it for granted; that it was upon this hope, this faith, she consented: he knew that she would be shocked at the bare idea of his going into the army. There was one chance--our hero tried, at this moment, to think it the best possible chance--that Miss Nugent might marry Mr. Salisbury, and settle in England. On this idea he relied, as the only means of extricating him from difficulties.

It was necessary to turn his thoughts immediately to business, to execute his promises to his father. Two great objects were now to be accomplished--the payment of his father's debts, and the settlement of the Irish agent's accounts; and, in transacting this complicated business, he derived considerable a.s.sistance from Sir Terence O'Fay, and from Sir Arthur Berryl's solicitor, Mr. Edwards. Whilst acting for Sir Arthur, on a former occasion, Lord Colambre had gained the entire confidence of this solicitor, who was a man of the first eminence. Mr.

Edwards took the papers and Lord Clonbrony's t.i.tle-deeds home with him, saying that he would give an answer the next morning. He then waited upon Lord Colambre, and informed him that he had just received a letter from Sir Arthur Berryl, who, with the consent and desire of his lady, requested that whatever money might be required by Lord Clonbrony should be immediately supplied on their account, without waiting till Lord Colambre should be of age, as the ready money might be of some convenience to him in accelerating the journey to Ireland, which Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl knew was his lordship's object. Sir Terence O'Fay now supplied Mr. Edwards with accurate information as to the demands that were made upon Lord Clonbrony, and of the respective characters of the creditors. Mr. Edwards undertook to settle with the fair claimants; Sir Terence with the rogues: so that by the advancement of ready money from _the Berryls_, and by the detection of false and exaggerated charges which Sir Terence made among the inferior cla.s.s, the debts were reduced nearly to one-half of their former amount. Mordicai, who had been foiled in his vile attempt to become sole creditor, had, however, a demand of more than seven thousand pounds upon Lord Clonbrony, which he had raised to this enormous sum in six or seven years, by means well known to himself. He stood the foremost in the list: not from the greatness of the sum; but from the danger of his adding to it the expenses of law. Sir Terence undertook to pay the whole with five thousand pounds. Lord Clonbrony thought it impossible: the solicitor thought it improvident, because he knew that upon a trial a much greater abatement would be allowed; but Lord Colambre was determined, from the present embarra.s.sments of his own situation, to leave nothing undone that could be accomplished immediately.

Sir Terence, pleased with his commission, immediately went to Mordicai.

"Well, Sir Terence," said Mordicai, "I hope you are come to pay me my hundred guineas; for Miss Broadhurst is married!"

"Well, Mister Mordicai, what then? The ides of March are come, but not gone! Stay, if you plase, Mister Mordicai, till Lady-day, when it becomes due: in the mean time, I have a handful, or rather an armful, of bank-notes for you, from my Lord Colambre."

"Humph." said Mordicai: "how's that? he'll not be of age these three days."

"Don't matter for that: he has sent me to look over your accounts, and to hope that you will make some small ABATEMENT in the total."

"Harkee, Sir Terence--you think yourself very clever in things of this sort, but you've mistaken your man: I have an execution for the whole, and I'll be d----d if all your cunning shall MAKE me take up with part!"

"Be _aisy_, Mister Mordicai!--you sha'n't make me break your bones, nor make me drop one actionable word against your high character; for I know your clerk there, with that long goose-quill behind his ear, would be ready evidence again' me. But I beg to know, in one word, whether you will take five thousand down, and GIVE Lord Clonbrony a discharge?"

"No, Mr. Terence! nor six thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds. My demand is seven thousand one hundred and thirty pounds, odd shillings: if you have that money, pay it; if not, I know how to get it, and along with it complete revenge for all the insults I have received from that greenhorn, his son."

"Paddy Brady!" cried Sir Terence, "do you hear that? Remember that word _revenge_!--Mind I call you to witness!"

"What, sir, will you raise a rebellion among my workmen?"

"No, Mr. Mordicai, no rebellion; and I hope you won't cut the boy's ears off for listening to a little of the brogue--so listen, my good lad. Now, Mr. Mordicai, I offer you here, before little goosequill, 5000_l._ ready penny--take it, or leave it: take your money, and leave your revenge; or take your revenge, and lose your money."

"Sir Terence, I value neither your threats nor your cunning. Good morning to you."

"Good morning to you, Mr. Mordicai--but not kindly! Mr. Edwards, the solicitor, has been at the office to take off the execution: so now you may have law to your heart's content! And it was only to plase the young lord that the _ould_ one consented to my carrying this bundle to you," showing the bank-notes.

"Mr. Edwards employed!" cried Mordicai. "Why, how the devil did Lord Clonbrony get into such hands as his? The execution taken off! Well, sir, go to law--I am ready for you. Jack Lat.i.tat IS A MATCH for your sober solicitor."

"Good morning again to you, Mr. Mordicai: we're fairly out of your clutches, and we have enough to do with our money."

"Well, Sir Terence, I must allow you have a very wheedling way--Here, Mr. Thompson, make out a receipt for Lord Clonbrony: I never go to law with an old customer, if I can help it."

This business settled, Mr. Soho was next to be dealt with.

He came at Lady Clonbrony's summons; and was taking directions with the utmost _sang froid_, for packing up and sending off the very furniture for which he was not paid.

Lord Colambre called him into his father's study; and, producing his bill, he began to point out various articles which were charged at prices that were obviously extravagant.

"Why, really, my lord, they are _abundantly_ extravagant: if I charged vulgar prices, I should be only a vulgar tradesman. I, however, am not a broker, nor a Jew. Of the article superintendence, which is only 500_l._, I cannot abate a doit: on the rest of the bill, if you mean to offer _ready_, I mean, without any negotiation, to abate thirty per cent., and I hope that is a fair and gentlemanly offer."

"Mr. Soho, there is your money!"