“There’s a cousin, though, a Miss Nugent,” said Mrs. Dareville, “that Lady Clonbrony has with her.” “Best part of her, too,” said Colonel Heathcock--“d----d fine girl!--never saw her look better than at the opera to-night!” “Fine _complexion_! as Lady Clonbrony says, when she means a high colour,” said Lady Langdale. “Miss Nugent is not a lady’s beauty,” said Mrs. Dareville. “Has she any fortune, colonel?” “‘Pon honour, don’t know,” said the colonel. “There’s a son, somewhere, is not there?” said Lady Langdale. “Don’t know, ‘pon honour,” replied the colonel. “Yes--at Cambridge--not of age yet,” said Mrs. Dareville. “Bless me! here is Lady Clonbrony come back. I thought she was gone half an hour ago!” “Mamma,” whispered one of Lady Langdale’s daughters, leaning between her mother and Mrs. Dareville, “who is that gentleman that passed us just now?” “Which way?” “Towards the door.--There now, mamma, you can see him. He is speaking to Lady Clonbrony--to Miss Nugent--now Lady Clonbrony is introducing him to Miss Broadhurst.” “I see him now,” said Lady Langdale, examining him through her glass; “a very gentlemanlike looking young man indeed.” “Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner,” said her grace. “Heathcock!” said Lady Langdale, “who is Miss Broadhurst talking to?” “Eh! now really--‘pon honour--don’t know,” replied Heathcock. “And yet he certainly looks like somebody one should know,” pursued Lady Langdale, “though I don’t recollect seeing him any where before.” “Really now!” was all the satisfaction she could gain from the insensible, immovable colonel. However, her ladyship, after sending a whisper along the line, gained the desired information, that the young gentleman was Lord Colambre, son, only son, of Lord and Lady Clonbrony--that he was just come from Cambridge--that he was not yet of age--that he would be of age within a year; that he would then, after the death of somebody, come into possession of a fine estate by the mother’s side; “and therefore, Cat’rine, my dear,” said she, turning round to the daughter who had first pointed him out, “you understand we should never talk about other people’s affairs.” “No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma, Lord Colambre did not hear what you and Mrs. Dareville were saying!” “How could he, child?--He was quite at the other end of the world.” “I beg your pardon, ma’am--he was at my elbow, close behind us; but I never thought about him till I heard somebody say ‘my lord--’” “Good heavens!--I hope he didn’t hear.” “But, for my part, I said nothing,” cried Lady Langdale. “And for my part, I said nothing but what every body knows,” cried Mrs. Dareville. “And for my part, I am guilty only of hearing,” said the duchess. “Do, pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the goodness to see what my people are about, and what chance we have of getting away to-night.”