“And now, since we are to go,” said Lady Clonbrony, “pray let us go immediately, before the thing gets wind, else I shall have Mrs. Dareville, and Lady Langdale, and Lady St. James, and all the world, coming to condole with me, just to satisfy their own curiosity: and then, Miss Pratt, who hears every thing that every body says, and more than they say, will come and tell me how it is reported every where that we are ruined. Oh! I never could bear to stay and hear all this. I’ll tell you what I’ll do--you are to be of age soon, Colambre,--very well, there are some papers for me to sign,--I must stay to put my name to them, and, that done, that minute I’ll leave you and Lord Clonbrony to settle all the rest; and I’ll get into my carriage, with Grace, and go down to Buxton again; where you can come for me, and take me up, when you’re all ready to go to Ireland--and we shall be so far on our way. Colambre, what do you say to this?” “That, if you like it, madam,” said he, giving one hasty glance at Miss Nugent, and withdrawing his eyes, “it is the best possible arrangement.” “So,” thought Grace, “that is the best possible arrangement which takes us away.” “If I like it!” said Lady Clonbrony; “to be sure I do, or I should not propose it. What is Colambre thinking of? I know, Grace, at all events, what you and I must think of--of having the furniture packed up, and settling what’s to go, and what’s to be exchanged, and all that. Now, my dear, go and write a note directly to Mr. Soho, and bid him come himself, immediately: and we’ll go and make out a catalogue this instant of what furniture I will have packed.” So with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired. “I go to my business, Colambre: and I leaven you to settle yours in peace.” In peace!--Never was our hero’s mind less at peace than at this moment. The more his heart felt that it was painful, the more his reason told him it was necessary that he should part from Grace Nugent. To his union with her there was an obstacle which his prudence told him ought to be insurmountable; yet he felt that, during the few days he had been with her, the few hours he had been near her, he had, with his utmost power over himself, scarcely been master of his passion, or capable of concealing its object. It could not have been done but for her perfect simplicity and innocence. But how could this be supported on his part? How could he venture to live with this charming girl? How could he settle at home? What resource?