“I am sure of it,” said Mrs. Broadhurst. “Only let things go on, and mind your cards, I beseech you, to-morrow night better than you did to-night; and you will see that things will turn out just as I prophesied. Lord Colambre will come to a point-blank proposal before the end of the week, and will be accepted, or my name’s not Broadhurst. Why, in plain English, I am clear my girl likes him; and when that’s the case, you know, can you doubt how the thing will end?” Mrs. Broadhurst was perfectly right in every point of her reasoning but one. From long habit of seeing and considering that such an heiress as her daughter might marry whom she pleased,--from constantly seeing that she was the person to decide and to reject,--Mrs. Broadhurst had literally taken it for granted that every thing was to depend upon her daughter’s inclinations: she was not mistaken, in the present case, in opining that the young lady would not be averse to Lord Colambre, if he came to what she called a point-blank proposal. It really never occurred to Mrs. Broadhurst, that any man whom her daughter was the least inclined to favour, could think of any body else. Quick-sighted in these affairs as the matron thought herself, she saw but one side of the question: blind and dull of comprehension as she thought Lady Clonbrony on this subject, Mrs. Broadhurst was herself so completely blinded by her own prejudices, as to be incapable of discerning the plain thing that was before her eyes; _videlicet_, that Lord Colambre preferred Grace Nugent. Lord Colambre made no proposal before the end of the week; but this Mrs. Broadhurst attributed to an unexpected occurrence, which prevented things from going on in the train in which they had been proceeding so smoothly. Sir John Berryl, Mr. Berryl’s father, was suddenly seized with a dangerous illness. The news was brought to Mr. Berryl one evening whilst he was at Lady Clonbrony’s. The circumstances of domestic distress which afterwards occurred in the family of his friend, entirely occupied Lord Colambre’s time and attention. All thoughts of love were suspended, and his whole mind was given up to the active services of friendship. The sudden illness of Sir John Berryl spread an alarm among his creditors, which brought to light at once the disorder of his affairs, of which his son had no knowledge or suspicion. Lady Berryl had been a very expensive woman, especially in equipages; and Mordicai, the coachmaker, appeared at this time the foremost and the most inexorable of their creditors. Conscious that the charges in his account were exorbitant, and that they would not be allowed if examined by a court of justice; that it was a debt which only ignorance and extravagance could have in the first instance incurred, swelled afterwards to an amazing amount by interest, and interest upon interest; Mordicai was impatient to obtain payment, whilst Sir John yet lived, or at least to obtain legal security for the whole sum from the heir. Mr.