Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same moment, stopped Lord Clonbrony as he was quitting the room, and then approached Lady Clonbrony with supplicating looks; but she turned her head to the other side, and, as if putting away their entreaties, made a repelling motion with both her hands, and exclaimed, “No, Grace Nugent!--no, Colambre--no--no, Colambre! I’ll never hear of leaving Lon’on--there’s no living out of Lon’on--I can’t, I won’t live out of Lon’on, I say.” Her son saw that the _Londonomania_ was now stronger than ever upon her, but resolved to make one desperate appeal to her natural feelings, which, though smothered, he could not believe were wholly extinguished: he caught her repelling hands, and pressing them with respectful tenderness to his lips, “Oh, my dear mother, you once loved your son,” said he; “loved him better than any thing in this world: if one spark of affection for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him, if he pass the bounds--bounds he never passed before--of filial duty. Mother, in compliance with your wishes my father left Ireland--left his home, his duties, his friends, his natural connexions, and for many years he has lived in England, and you have spent many seasons in London.” “Yes, in the very best company--in the very first circles,” said Lady Clonbrony; “cold as the high-bred English are said to be in general to strangers.” “Yes,” replied Lord Colambre, “the very best company (if you mean the most fashionable) have accepted of our entertainments. We have forced our way into their frozen circles; we have been permitted to breathe in these elevated regions of fashion; we have it to say, that the Duke of _This_, and my Lady _That_, are of our acquaintance.--We may say more: we may boast that we have vied with those whom we could never equal. And at what expense have we done all this? For a single season, the last winter (I will go no farther), at the expense of a great part of your timber, the growth of a century--swallowed in the entertainments of one winter in London! Our hills to be bare for another half century to come! But let the trees go: I think more of your tenants--of those left under the tyranny of a bad agent, at the expense of every comfort, every hope they enjoyed!--tenants, who were thriving and prosperous; who used to smile upon you, and to bless you both! In one cottage, I have seen--” Here Lord Clonbrony, unable to restrain his emotion, hurried out of the room. “Then I am sure it is not my fault,” said Lady Clonbrony; “for I brought my lord a large fortune: and I am confident I have not, after all, spent more any season, in the best company, than he has among a set of low people, in his muddling, discreditable way.”