This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are capable of feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our hero exquisite pleasure. Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O'Fay enjoyed his lordship's delight; and forgot himself so completely, that he never even inquired whether Lord Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had spoken to him some time before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence's interest. The next morning, when the carriage was at the door, and Sir Terence was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and actually in tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he said there was none left now in London, or the wide world, even, for him--Lord Colambre went up to him, and said, 'Sir Terence, you have never inquired whether I have done your business?'

'Oh, my dear, I'm not thinking of that now--time enough by the post--I can write after you; but my thoughts won't turn for me to business now no matter.'

'Your business is done,' replied Lord Colambre.

'Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you had upon your mind and heart. When anything's upon my heart, good morning to my head, it's not worth a lemon. Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly, and all happiness attend you.'

'Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O'Fay,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'and, since it's so ordered, I must live without you.'

'Oh! you'll live better without me! my lord; I am not a good liver, I know, nor the best of all companions for a n.o.bleman, young or old; and now you'll be rich, and not put to your shifts and your wits, what would I have to do for you?--Sir Terence O'Fay, you know, was only THE POOR n.o.bLEMAN'S FRIEND, and you'll never want to call upon him again, thanks to your jewel, your Pitt's-di'mond of a son there. So we part here, and depend upon it you're better without me--that's all my comfort, or my heart would break. The carriage is waiting this long time, and this young lover's itching to be off. G.o.d bless you both!--that's my last word.'

They called in Red Lion Square, punctual to the moment, on old Mr.

Reynolds, but his window-shutters were shut; he had been seized in the night with a violent fit of the gout, which, as he said, held him fast by the leg. 'But here,' said he, giving Lord Colambre a letter, 'here's what will do your business without me. Take this written acknowledgment I have penned for you, and give my grand-daughter her father's letter to read--it would touch a heart of stone--touched mine--wish I could drag the mother back out of her grave, to do her justice--all one now. You see at last I'm not a suspicious rascal, however, for I don't suspect you of palming a false grand-daughter upon me.'

'Will you,' said Lord Colambre, 'give your grand-daughter leave to come up to town to you, sir? You would satisfy yourself, at least, as to what resemblance she may bear to her father; Miss Reynolds will come instantly, and she will nurse you.'

'No, no; I won't have her come. If she comes, I won't see her--shan't begin by nursing me--not selfish. As soon as I get rid of this gout, I shall be my own man, and young again, and I'll soon be after you across the sea, that shan't stop me; I'll come to--what's the name of your place in Ireland? and see what likeness I can find to her poor father in this grand-daughter of mine, that you puffed so finely yesterday. And let me see whether she will wheedle me as finely as Mrs. Pet.i.to would.

Don't get ready your marriage settlements, do you hear, till you have seen my will, which I shall sign at--what's the name of your place?

Write it down there; there's pen and ink; and leave me, for the twinge is coming, and I shall roar.'

'Will you permit me, sir, to leave my own servant with you to take care of you? I can answer for his attention and fidelity.'

'Let me see his face, and I'll tell you.' Lord Colambre's servant was summoned.

'Yes, I like his face. G.o.d bless you!--Leave me.'

Lord Colambre gave his servant a charge to bear with Mr. Reynolds's rough manner and temper, and to pay the poor old gentleman every possible attention. Then our hero proceeded with his father on his journey, and on this journey nothing happened worthy of note. On his first perusal of the letter from Grace, Lord Colambre had feared that she would have left Buxton with Lady Berryl before he could reach it; but, upon recollection, he hoped that the few lines he had written, addressed to his mother AND Miss Nugent, with the a.s.surance that he should be with them on Wednesday, would be sufficient to show her that some great change had happened, and consequently sufficient to prevent her from quitting her aunt, till she could know whether such a separation would be necessary. He argued wisely, more wisely than Grace had reasoned; for, notwithstanding this note, she would have left Buxton before his arrival, but for Lady Berryl's strength of mind, and positive determination not to set out with her till Lord Colambre should arrive to explain. In the interval, poor Grace was, indeed, in an anxious state of suspense; and her uncertainty, whether she was doing right or wrong, by staying to see Lord Colambre, tormented her most.

'My dear, you cannot help yourself; be quiet,' said Lady Berryl; 'I will take the whole upon my conscience; and I hope my conscience may never have anything worse to answer for.'

Grace was the first person who, from her window, saw Lord Colambre, the instant the carriage drove to the door. She ran to her friend Lady Berryl's apartment--'He is come!--Now, take me away!'

'Not yet, my sweet friend! Lie down upon this sofa, if you please; and keep yourself tranquil, whilst I go and see what you ought to do; and depend upon me for a true friend, in whose mind, as in your own, duty is the first object.'

'I depend on you entirely,' said Grace, sinking down on the sofa; 'and you see I obey you!'

'Many thanks to you for lying down, when you can't stand.'

Lady Berryl went to Lady Clonbrony's apartment; she was met by Sir Arthur.

'Come, my love! come quick!--Lord Colambre is arrived.'

'I know it; and does he go to Ireland? Speak instantly, that I may tell Grace Nugent.'

'You can tell her nothing yet, my love; for we know nothing. Lord Colambre will not say a word till you come; but I know, by his countenance, that he has good and extraordinary news.'

They pa.s.sed rapidly along the pa.s.sage to Lady Clonbrony's room.

'Oh, my dear, dear Lady Berryl, come! or I shall die with impatience,'

cried Lady Clonbrony, in a voice and manner between laughing and crying.

'There, now you have congratulated, are very happy, and very glad, and all that--now, for mercy's sake, sit down, Lord Clonbrony! for Heaven's sake, sit down--beside me here--or anywhere! Now, Colambre, begin; and tell us all at once!'

But as nothing is so tedious as a twice-told tale, Lord Colambre's narrative need not here be repeated. He began with Count O'Halloran's visit, immediately after Lady Clonbrony had left London; and went through the history of the discovery that Captain Reynolds was the husband of Miss St. Omar, and the father of Grace; the dying acknowledgment of his marriage; the packet delivered by Count O'Halloran to the careless amba.s.sador--how recovered, by the a.s.sistance of his executor, Sir James Brooke; the travels from Wrestham to Toddrington, and thence to Red Lion Square; the interview with old Reynolds, and its final result; all was related as succinctly as the impatient curiosity of Lord Colambre's auditors could desire.

'Oh, wonder upon wonder! and joy upon joy!' cried Lady Clonbrony. 'So my darling Grace is as legitimate as I am, and an heiress after all. Where is she? where is she? In your room, Lady Berryl?--Oh, Colambre! why wouldn't you let her be by?--Lady Berryl, do you know, he would not let me send for her, though she was the person of all others most concerned!'

'For that very reason, ma'am; and that Lord Colambre was quite right, I am sure you must be sensible, when you recollect, that Grace has no idea that she is not the daughter of Mr. Nugent; she has no suspicion that the breath of blame ever lighted upon her mother. This part of the story cannot be announced to her with too much caution; and, indeed, her mind has been so much hara.s.sed and agitated, and she is at present so far from strong, that great delicacy--'

'True! very true, Lady Berryl,' interrupted Lady Clonbrony; 'and I'll be as delicate as you please about it afterwards; but, in the first and foremost place, I must tell her the best part of the story--that she's an heiress, madam, never killed anybody!' So, darting through all opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her way into the room where Grace was lying--'Yes, get up! get up! my own Grace, and be surprised--well you may!--you are an heiress, after all.'

'Am I, my dear aunt?' said Grace.

'True, as I'm Lady Clonbrony--and a very great heiress--and no more Colambre's cousin than Lady Berryl here. So now begin and love him as fast as you please--I give my consent--and here he is.'

Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared at the door.

'Oh, mother! what have you done?'

'What have I done?' cried Lady Clonbrony, following her son's eyes:--'Lord bless me!--Grace fainted dead--lady Berryl? Oh, what have I done? My dear Lady Berryl, what shall we do?'

'There! her colour's coming again,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'come away, my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so will I--though I long to talk to the darling girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet.'

When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl leaning over her, and, raising herself a little, she said--

'What has happened?--I don't know yet--I don't know whether I am happy or not.'

Then seeing Lord Colambre, she sat quite upright. 'You received my letter, cousin, I hope?--Do you go to Ireland with my aunt?'

'Yes; and with you, I hope, my beloved friend,' said Colambre; 'you once a.s.sured me that I had such a share of your esteem and affection, that the idea of my accompanying you to Ireland was not disagreeable to you; you flattered me that I formed part of your agreeable a.s.sociations with home.'

'Yes--sit down by me, won't you, my dear Lady Berryl--but then I considered you as my cousin, Lord Colambre, and I thought you felt the same towards me; but now--'

'But now, my charming Grace,' said Lord Colambre, kneeling beside her, and taking her hand, 'no invincible obstacle opposes my pa.s.sion--no INVINCIBLE obstacle, did I say? let me hope that I may say no obstacle, but what depends on the change in the nature of your sentiments. You heard my mother's consent; you saw her joy.'

'I scarcely knew what I heard or saw,' said Grace, blushing deeply, 'or what I now see and hear; but of this I feel secure, before I comprehend the mystery, before you explain to me the causes of your--change of conduct, that you have never been actuated by caprice, but governed by wise and honourable motives. As to my going to Ireland, or remaining with Lady Berryl, she has heard all the circ.u.mstances--she is my friend and yours--a better friend cannot be; to her I appeal--she will decide for me what I OUGHT to do; she promised to take me from hence instantly, if I ought to go.'

'I did; and I would do so without hesitation, if any duty or any prudence required it. But, after having heard all the circ.u.mstances, I can only tell you that I willingly resign the pleasure of your company.'

'But tell her, my dear Lady Berryl,' said Lord Colambre, 'excellent friend as you are--explain to her you can, better than any of us, all that is to be known; let her know my whole conduct, and then let her decide for herself, and I shall submit to her decision. It is difficult, my dear Grace, to restrain the expression of love, of pa.s.sion, such as I feel; but I have some power over myself--you know it--and this I can promise you, that your affections shall be free as air--that: no wishes of friends, no interference, nothing but your own unbia.s.sed choice will I allow, if my life depended upon it, to operate in my favour. Be a.s.sured, my dearest Grace,' added he, smiling as he retired, 'you shall have time to know whether you are happy or not.'

The moment he had left the room, she threw herself into the arms of her friend, and her heart, oppressed with various feelings, was relieved by tears--a species of relief to which she was not habituated.

'I am happy,' said she; 'but what was the INVINCIBLE OBSTACLE?--what was the meaning of my aunt's words?--and what was the cause of her joy?

Explain all this to me, my dear friend; for I am still as if I were in a dream.'

With all the delicacy which Lady Clonbrony deemed superfluous Lady Berryl explained. Nothing could surpa.s.s the astonishment of Grace, on first learning that Mr. Nugent was not her father. When she was told of the stigma that had been cast on her birth; the suspicions, the disgrace, to which her mother had been subjected for so many years--that mother, whom she had so loved and respected; who had, with such care, instilled into the mind of her daughter the principles of virtue and religion; that mother whom Grace had always seen the example of every virtue she taught; on whom her daughter never suspected that the touch of blame, the breath of scandal, could rest--Grace could express her sensations only by repeating, in tones of astonishment, pathos, indignation--'My mother!--my mother!--my mother!'

For some time she was incapable of attending to any other idea, or of feeling any other sensations. When her mind was able to admit the thought, her friend soothed her, by recalling the expressions of Lord Colambre's love--the struggle by which he had been agitated, when he fancied a union with her opposed by an invincible obstacle.