feelings, which, though smothered, he could not believe were wholly
extinguished: he caught her repelling hands, and pressing them with
respectful tenderness to his lips, "Oh, my dear mother, you once loved
your son," said he; "loved him better than any thing in this world: if
one spark of affection for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him,
if he pass the bounds--bounds he never passed before--of filial duty.
Mother, in compliance with your wishes my father left Ireland--left
his home, his duties, his friends, his natural connexions, and for
many years he has lived in England, and you have spent many seasons in
London."

"Yes, in the very best company--in the very first circles," said Lady
Clonbrony; "cold as the high-bred English are said to be in general to
strangers."

"Yes," replied Lord Colambre, "the very best company (if you mean the
most fashionable) have accepted of our entertainments. We have forced
our way into their frozen circles; we have been permitted to breathe
in these elevated regions of fashion; we have it to say, that the
Duke of _This_, and my Lady _That_, are of our acquaintance.--We may
say more: we may boast that we have vied with those whom we could
never equal. And at what expense have we done all this? For a single
season, the last winter (I will go no farther), at the expense of
a great part of your timber, the growth of a century--swallowed in
the entertainments of one winter in London! Our hills to be bare for
another half century to come! But let the trees go: I think more of
your tenants--of those left under the tyranny of a bad agent, at the
expense of every comfort, every hope they enjoyed!--tenants, who were
thriving and prosperous; who used to smile upon you, and to bless you
both! In one cottage, I have seen--"