“And then there must be settlements,” said Lord Clonbrony; “they take time. Lovers, like all the rest of mankind, must submit to the law’s delay. In the mean time, my dear, as these Buxton baths agree with you so well, and as Grace does not seem to be over and above strong for travelling a long journey, and as there are many curious and beautiful scenes of nature here in Derbyshire--Matlock, and the wonders of the Peak, and so on--which the young people would be glad to see together, and may not have another opportunity soon--why not rest ourselves a little? For another reason, too,” continued his lordship, bringing together as many arguments as he could--for he had often found, that though Lady Clonbrony was a match for any single argument, her understanding could be easily overpowered by a number, of whatever sort--“besides, my dear, here’s Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl come to Buxton on purpose to meet us; and we owe them some compliment, and something more than compliment, I think: so I don’t see why we should be in a hurry to leave them, or quit Buxton--a few weeks sooner or later can’t signify--and Clonbrony Castle will be getting all the while into better order for us. Burke is gone down there; and if we stay here quietly, there will be time for the velvet furniture to get there before us, and to be unpacked, and up in the drawing-room.” “That’s true, my lord,” said Lady Clonbrony; “and there is a great deal of reason in all you say--so I second that motion, as Colambre, I see, subscribes to it.” They stayed some time in Derbyshire, and every day Lord Clonbrony proposed some pleasant excursion, and contrived that the young people should be left to themselves, as Mrs. Broadhurst used so strenuously to advise; the recollection of whose authoritative maxims fortunately still operated upon Lady Clonbrony, to the great ease and advantage of the lovers. Happy as a lover, a friend, a son; happy in the consciousness of having restored a father to respectability, and persuaded a mother to quit the feverish joys of fashion for the pleasures of domestic life; happy in the hope of winning the whole heart of the woman he loved, and whose esteem, he knew, he possessed and deserved; happy in developing every day, every hour, fresh charms in his destined bride--we leave our hero, returning to his native country. And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that he will support through life the promise of his early character; that his patriotic views will extend with his power to carry wishes into action; that his attachment to his warm-hearted countrymen will still increase upon further acquaintance; and that he will long diffuse happiness through the wide circle, which is peculiarly subject to the influence and example of a great resident Irish proprietor. LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT MR. MORDICAI’S, COACH MAKER, LONDON. “MY DEAR BROTHER,