Touched, vanquished, Mrs. Beaumont leaned her head on her son, and said, “Then we shall be happy indeed!” The exclamation was sincere: at this moment she thought as she spoke. All her schemes were forgotten: the reversionary title, the Wigram estate--all, all forgotten: miraculous eloquence and power of truth! “What happiness!” said Mrs. Beaumont: “I ask no other. You are right, my dear son; marry Miss Walsingham, and we have enough, and more than enough, for happiness. You are right; and henceforward we shall have but one mind amongst us.” With true gratitude and joy her son embraced her; and this was the most delightful, perhaps the only really delightful, moment she had felt for years. She was sincere, and at ease. But this touch of nature, strong as it was, operated only for a moment: habit resumed her influence; art regained her pupil and her slave! Captain Lightbody and Miss Hunter came into the room; and with them came low thoughts of plots, and notes, and baronets, and equipages, and a reversionary title, and the Wigram estate. What different ideas of happiness! Her son, in the mean time, had started up, mounted his horse, and had galloped off to realize some of his ideas of felicity, by the immediate offer of his hand to the lady who possessed his whole heart. Cool as policy, just recovered from the danger of imprudent sensibility, could make her, Mrs. Beaumont was now all herself again. “Have you found much amusement shooting this morning, Lightbody?” said she, carelessly. “No, ma’am; done nothing--just nothing at all--for I met Sir John in the grounds, and could not leave him. Poor Sir John, ma’am; I tell him we must get him a crook; he is quite turned despairing shepherd. Never saw a man so changed. Upon my soul, he is--seriously now, Mrs. Beaumont, you need not laugh--I always told Sir John that his time of falling in love would come; and come it has, at last, with a vengeance.” “Oh, nonsense! nonsense, Lightbody! This to me! and of Sir John Hunter!”