amusement to me--and I should like to set the fashion of something
better in that country. And I declare now, I should like to see those
poor people, and that widow O'Neil. I do assure you, I think I was
happier at home; only that one gets, I don't know how, a notion,
one's nobody out of Lon'on. But, after all, there's many drawbacks
in Lon'on--and many people are very impertinent, I'll allow--and if
there's a woman in the world I hate, it is Mrs. Dareville--and, if I
was leaving Lon'on, I should not regret Lady Langdale neither--and
Lady St. James is as cold as a stone. Colambre may well say
_frozen circles_--these sort of people are really very cold, and
have, I do believe, no hearts. I don't verily think there is
one of them would regret me more--Hey! let me see, Dublin--the
winter--Merrion-square--new furnished--and the summer--Clonbrony
Castle!"

Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till her mind should
have worked itself clear. One great obstacle had been removed; and now
that the yellow damask had been taken out of her imagination, they no
longer despaired.

Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room. "What hopes?--any? if
not, let me go." He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony's
countenance--hope in the face of his son and niece. "My dear, dear
Lady Clonbrony, make us all happy by one word," said he, kissing her.

"You never kissed me so since we left Ireland before," said Lady
Clonbrony. "Well, since it must be so, let us go," said she.

"Did I ever see such joy!" said Lord Clonbrony, clasping his hands: "I
never expected such joy in my life!--I must go and tell poor Terry!"