Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any woman whose mother had conducted herself ill. His reason, his prejudices, his pride, his delicacy, and even his limited experience were all against it. All his hopes, his plans of future happiness, were shaken to their very foundation; he felt as if he had received a blow that stunned his mind, and from which he could not recover his faculties. The whole of that day he was like one in a dream. At night the painful idea continually recurred to him; and whenever he was fallen asleep, the sound of Lady Dashfort’s voice returned upon his ear, saying the words, “What could he expect when he married one of the St. Omars? None of the women _sans reproche_.” In the morning he rose early; and the first thing he did was to write a letter to his mother, requesting (unless there was some important reason for her declining to answer the question) that she would immediately relieve his mind from a great _uneasiness_ (he altered the word four times, but at last left it uneasiness). He stated what he had heard, and besought his mother to tell him the whole truth without reserve. CHAPTER VIII. One morning Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious scheme for leaving Lady Isabel and Lord Colambre _tête-à-tête_; but the sudden entrance of Heathcock disconcerted her intentions. He came to beg Lady Dashfort’s interest with Count O’Halloran, for permission to hunt and shoot on his grounds next season.--“Not for myself, ‘pon honour, but for two officers who are quartered at the next _town_ here, who will indubitably hang or drown themselves if they are debarred from sporting.” “Who is this Count O’Halloran?” said Lord Colambre. Miss White, Lady Killpatrick’s companion, said, “he was a great oddity;” Lady Dashfort, “that he was singular;” and the clergyman of the parish, who was at breakfast, declared “that he was a man of uncommon knowledge, merit, and politeness.” “All I know of him,” said Heathcock, “is, that he is a great sportsman, with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and long skirts to a laced waistcoat.” Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary personage; and Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and, perhaps thinking absence might be as effectual as too much propinquity, immediately offered to call upon the officers in their way, and carry them with Heathcock and Lord Colambre to Halloran Castle. Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with becoming grace; and Major Benson and Captain Williamson were taken to the count’s. Major Benson, who was a famous _whip_, took his seat on the box of the barouche; and the rest of the party had the pleasure of her ladyship’s conversation for three or four miles: of her ladyship’s conversation--for Lord Colambre’s thoughts were far distant; Captain Williamson had not any thing to say; and Heathcock nothing but “Eh! re’lly now!--‘pon honour!”