all understanding, the words she said, fixed his eyes on his cousin,
who, with a countenance all radiant with affectionate joy, held out
her hand to him.

"Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure!"

He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the recollection
of _St. Omar_ crossed his mind: he checked himself, and said something
about joy and pleasure, but his countenance expressed neither; and
Miss Nugent, much surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew
her hand, and, turning away, left the room.

"Grace! darling!" called Lord Clonbrony, "whither so fast, before
you've given me a word or a kiss?"

She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her in his
arms. "Why must I let you go? And what makes you so pale, my dear
child?"

"I am a little, a little tired--I will be with you again soon."

Her uncle let her go.

"Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed with her, by all I
can see," said Lord Clonbrony.

"My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I know what is
to blame and who is to blame," said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone of
displeasure, fixing her eyes upon her son. "Yes, you may well look
confounded, Colambre; but it is too late now--you should have known