He marked the superior intelligence, the animation, the eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst alternately, with arch raillery or grave humour, she played off Mr. Soho, and made him magnify the ridicule, till it was apparent even to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the anxiety, lest his mother should expose her own foibles—he was touched by the respectful, earnest kindness—the soft tones of persuasion, with which she addressed his mother—the care not to presume upon her own influence—the good sense, the taste she showed, yet not displaying her superiority—the address, temper, and patience, with which she at last accomplished her purpose, and prevented Lady Clonbrony from doing anything preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.

Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was ended—when Mr. Soho departed—for Grace Nugent was then silent; and it was necessary to remove his eyes from that countenance, on which he had gazed unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her without her perceiving it—she seemed so intent upon others as totally to forget herself The whole train of Lord Colambre's thoughts was so completely deranged that, although he was sensible there was something of importance he had to say to his mother, yet, when Mr. Soho's departure left him opportunity to speak, he stood silent, unable to recollect anything but—Grace Nugent.

When Grace Nugent left the room, after some minutes' silence, and some effort, Lord Colambre said to his mother, 'Pray, madam, do you know anything of Sir Terence O'Fay?'

'I!' Said Lady Clonbrony, drawing up her head proudly; 'I know he is a person I cannot endure. He is no friend of mine, I can assure you—nor any such sort of person.'

'I thought it was impossible!' cried Colambre, with exultation.

'I only wish your father, Colambre, could say as much,' added Lady Clonbrony.

Lord Colambre's countenance fell again; and again he was silent for some time.

'Does my father dine at home, ma'am?'

'I suppose not; he seldom dines at home.'

'Perhaps, ma'am, my father may have some cause to be uneasy about—'

'About?' said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone, and with a look of curiosity which convinced her son that she knew nothing of his debts or distresses, if he had any. 'About what?' repeated her ladyship.

Here was no receding, and Lord Colambre never had recourse to artifice.

'About his affairs, I was going to say, madam. But, since you know nothing of any difficulties or embarrassments, I am persuaded that none exist.'

Nay, I CAWNT tell you that, Colambre. There are difficulties for ready money, I confess, when I ask for it, which surprise me often. I know nothing of affairs—ladies of a certain rank seldom do, you know. But, considering your father's estate, and the fortune I brought him,' added her ladyship, proudly, 'I CAWNT conceive it at all. Grace Nugent, indeed, often talks to me of embarrassments and economy; but that, poor thing, is very natural for her, because her fortune is not particularly large, and she has left it all, or almost all, in her uncle and guardian's hands. I know she's often distressed for odd money to lend me, and that makes her anxious.'

'Is not Miss Nugent very much admired, ma'am, in London?'

'Of course—in the company she is in, you know, she has every advantage. And she has a natural family air of fashion—not but what she would have got on much better, if, when she first appeared in Lon'on, she had taken my advice, and wrote herself on her cards Miss de Nogent, which would have taken off the prejudice against the IRICISM of Nugent, you know; and there is a Count de Nogent.'

'I did not know there was any such prejudice, ma'am. There may be among a certain set; but, I should think, not among well-informed, well-bred people.'

'I BIG your PAWDON, Colambre; surely I, that was born in England, an Henglish-woman BAWN! must be well INFAWMED on this PINT, anyway.'

Lord Colambre was respectfully silent.

'Mother,' resumed he, 'I wonder that Miss Nugent is not married!'

'That is her own fau't, entirely; she has refused very good offers—establishments that, I own, I think, as Lady Langdale says, I was to blame to allow her to let pass; but young LEDIES till they are twenty, always think they can do better. Mr. Martingale, of Martingale, proposed for her, but she objected to him on account of he's being on the turf; and Mr. St. Albans' L7000 a year—because—I REELLY forget what—I believe only because she did not like him—and something about principles. Now there is Colonel Heathcock, one of the most fashionable young men you see, always with the Duchess of Torcaster and that set—Heathcock takes a vast deal of notice of her, for him; and yet, I'm persuaded, she would not have him to-morrow, if he came to the PINT, and for no reason, REELLY now, that she can give me, but because she says he's a coxcomb. Grace has a tincture of Irish pride. But, for my part, I rejoice that she is so difficult, for I don't know what I should do without her.'

'Miss Nugent is indeed—very much attached to you, mother, I am convinced,' said Lord Colambre, beginning his sentence with great enthusiasm, and ending it with great sobriety.

'Indeed then, she's a sweet girl, and I am very partial to her, there's the truth,' cried Lady Clonbrony, in an undisguised Irish accent, and with her natural warm manner. But a moment afterwards her features and whole form resumed their constrained stillness and stiffness, and, in her English accent, she continued—

'Before you put my IDEES out of my head, Colambre, I had something to say to you—Oh! I know what it was—we were talking of embarrassments—and I wished to do your father the justice to mention to you that he has been UNCOMMON LIBERAL to me about this gala, and has REELLY given me carte-blanche; and I've a notion—indeed I know—that it is you, Colambre, I am to thank for this.'

'Me!—ma'am!'

'Yes! Did not your father give you any hint?'

'No, ma'am; I have seen my father but for half an hour since I came to town, and in that time he said nothing to me—of his affairs.'

'But what I allude to is more your affair.'

'He did not speak to me of any affairs, ma'am—he spoke only of my horses.'

'Then I suppose my lord leaves it to me to open the matter to you. I have the pleasure to tell you, that we have in view for you—and I think I may say with more than the approbation of all her family—an alliance—'

'Oh! my dear mother! you cannot be serious,' cried Lord Colambre; 'you know I am not of years of discretion yet—I shall not think of marrying these ten years, at least.'

'Why not? Nay, my dear Colambre, don't go, I beg—I am serious, I assure you—and, to convince you of it, I shall tell you candidly, at once, all your father told me: that now you've done with Cambridge, and are come to Lon'on, he agrees with me in wishing that you should make the figure you ought to make, Colambre, as sole heir-apparent to the Clonbrony estate, and all that sort of thing. But, on the other hand, living in Lon'on, and making you the handsome allowance you ought to have, are, both together, more than your father can afford, without inconvenience, he tells me.'

'I assure you, mother, I shall be content—'

'No, no; you must not be content, child, and you must hear me. You must live in a becoming style, and make a proper appearance. I could not present you to my friends here, nor be happy, if you did not, Colambre. Now the way is clear before you: you have birth and title, here is fortune ready made; you will have a noble estate of your own when old Quin dies, and you will not be any encumbrance or inconvenience to your father or anybody. Marrying an heiress accomplishes all this at once; and the young lady is everything we could wish, besides—you will meet again at the gala. Indeed, between ourselves, she is the grand object of the gala; all her friends will come EN MASSE, and one should wish that they should see things in proper style. You have seen the young lady in question, Colambre—Miss Broadhurst. Don't you recollect the young lady I introduced you to last night after the opera?'

'The little, plain girl, covered with diamonds, who was standing beside Miss Nugent?'

'In di'monds, yes.