And out of the room walked he, leaving his poor son in as awkward, embarrassing, and painful a situation as could well be conceived. Half a dozen indistinct ideas crossed his mind; quick conflicting feelings made his heart beat and stop. And how it would have ended, if he had been left to himself; whether he would have stood or fallen, have spoken or have continued silent, can never now be known, for all was decided without the action of his will. He was awakened from his trance by these simple words from Miss Nugent: “I’m much obliged to you, cousin Colambre--more obliged to you for your kindness in thinking of me first, in the midst of all your other business, than by your securing my fortune. Friendship--and your friendship--is worth more to me than fortune. May I believe that is secured?” “Believe it! Oh, Grace, can you doubt it?” “I will not; it would make me too unhappy, I will not.” “You need not.” “That is enough--I am satisfied--I ask no farther explanation. You are truth itself--one word from you is security sufficient. We are friends for life,” said she; “are not we?” “We are--and therefore sit down, cousin Grace, and let me claim the privilege of friendship, and speak to you of him who aspires to be more than your friend for life, Mr.--” “Mr. Salisbury!” said Miss Nugent; “I saw him yesterday. We had a very long conversation; I believe he understands my sentiments perfectly, and that he no longer thinks of being more to me than a friend for life.” “You have refused him!” “Yes. I have a high opinion of Mr. Salisbury’s understanding, a great esteem for his character; I like his manners and conversation; but I do not love him, and, therefore, you know, I could not marry him.” “But, my dear Miss Nugent, with a high opinion, a great esteem, and liking his manners and conversation, in such a well-regulated mind as yours, can there be a better foundation for love?” “It is an excellent foundation,” said she; “but I never went any farther than the foundation; and, indeed, I never wished to proceed any farther.” Lord Colambre scarcely dared to ask why; but after some pause he said, “I don’t wish to intrude upon your confidence.” “You cannot intrude upon my confidence; I am ready to give it to you entirely, frankly; I hesitated only because another person was concerned. Do you remember, at my aunt’s gala, a lady who danced with Mr. Salisbury?” “Not in the least.” “A lady with whom you and Mr. Salisbury were talking, just before supper, in the Turkish tent.” “Not in the least.” “As we went down to supper, you told me you had had a delightful conversation with her; that you thought her a charming woman.” “A charming woman!--I have not the slightest recollection of her.” “And you told me that she and Mr. Salisbury had been praising me _à l’envie l’une de l’autre_.” “Oh, I recollect her now perfectly,” said Lord Colambre: “but what of her?”