“Not at all, not at all,” said the earl, “I’m obliged to you; but I cannot be expected to think of all these things for everybody. He only told me that he intended to marry Miss ——; and I said, very well, I had no objection; for she is a very good girl, and of a very old family, though poor, desperate poor. Go and tell him, Louis, that if he likes to stay here and marry, I will make every arrangement to render him comfortable. Don’t let fortune stand in the way a moment. He shall be put at ease.” I had a great inclination to say a good word for myself; but I forbore, and as I rose to go, the earl asked, in an ordinary tone, “Have you seen your mother this morning?” I replied as nearly as I could in the same manner, that I had not yet; and he rejoined, “Well, go and see her before you go to Charles. You will find her in her dressing-room—you know where it is.” I had not the most distant idea; but I did not tell him so, and merely bade him good morning. Thus ended my first interview with the Earl of N—— as his acknowledged grandson. Very few words more will suffice to close my little history. Charles Westover was delighted with the news I brought him, and readily agreed to retire upon half pay, and to remain in England. He insisted upon knowing how it had been brought about that I was sent with this message to him, and I gave him, half jestingly, half seriously, an account of my interview with the earl. “I understand you, Louis, I understand you,” he said, wringing my hand hard, “and I thank you from my very heart. Nothing on earth would have induced me to ask the earl for a penny. My mother’s jointure, of course, diminishes greatly the income that descended to me from my father, and perhaps some youthful imprudences may have diminished it still more; but the earl, I dare say, did not think of either. Now all will go well; for there is not a more generous man living, when he acts spontaneously. And so you really did not speak one word about your own engagement? Well, that must be managed for you.” “No, no,” I replied, “I will do it myself. I begin to understand his character, I think, and trust I can manage it.” However, when I came to talk with my mother on the subject, she was terrified at the very idea—a Frenchwoman—a Roman Catholic—the daughter of a poor emigrant—she thought it would drive the earl mad.