Mr. Reynolds looked up at him with a look that said, "I don't clearly
know what interest you have in all this." But, unable to speak, and
his hands trembling so that he could scarcely break the seals, he tore
off the cover, laid the papers before him, sat down, and took breath.
Lord Colambre, however impatient, had now too much humanity to hurry
the old gentleman: he only ran for the spectacles, which he espied
on the chimney-piece, rubbed them bright, and held them ready. Mr.
Reynolds stretched his hand out for them, put them on, and the first
paper he opened was the certificate of the marriage: he read it aloud,
and, putting it down, said, "Now I acknowledge the marriage. I always
said, if there is a marriage there must be a certificate. And you see
now there is a certificate--I acknowledge the marriage."

"And now," cried Lord Colambre, "I am happy, positively happy.
Acknowledge your grand-daughter, sir--acknowledge Miss Nugent."

"Acknowledge whom, sir?"

"Acknowledge Miss Reynolds--your grand-daughter; I ask no more--do
what you will with your fortune."

"Oh, now I understand--I begin to understand, this young gentleman is
in love--but where is my grand-daughter? how shall I know she is my
grand-daughter? I have not heard of her since she was an infant--I
forgot her existence--I have done her great injustice."

"She knows nothing of it, sir," said Lord Colambre, who now entered
into a full explanation of Miss Nugent's history, and of her connexion
with his family, and of his own attachment to her; concluding the
whole by assuring Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every