-the degradation
which has ensued? And do not the feelings, which have this moment forced
him to leave the room, show that he is capable?--Oh, mother!' cried Lord
Colambre, throwing himself at Lady Clonbrony's feet, 'restore my father
to himself! Should such feelings be wasted?--No; give them again to
expand in benevolent, in kind, useful actions; give him again to
his tenantry, his duties, his country, his home; return to that home
yourself, dear mother! leave all the nonsense of high life--scorn the
impertinence of these dictators of fashion, by whom, in return for all
the pains we take to imitate, to court them--in return for the sacrifice
of health, fortune, peace of mind, they bestow sarcasm, contempt,
ridicule, and mimickry!'

'Oh, Colambre! Colambre! mimickry--I'll never believe it.'

'Believe me--believe me, mother; for I speak of what I know. Scorn
them--quit them! Return to an unsophisticated people--to poor, but
grateful hearts, still warm with the remembrance of your kindness, still
blessing you for favours long since conferred, ever praying to see you
once more. Believe me, for I speak of what I know--your son has heard
these prayers, has felt these blessings. Here! at my heart felt, and
still feel them, when I was not known to be your son, in the cottage of
the widow O'Neill.'

'Oh, did you see the widow O'Neill? and does she remember me?' said Lady
Clonbrony.

'Remember you! and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept in the bed--I would
tell you more, but I cannot.'

'Well! I never should have thought they would have remembered me so
long!--poor people!' said Lady Clonbrony. 'I thought all in Ireland must
have forgotten me, it is now so long since I was at home.'

'You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can answer for that.
Return home, my dearest mother--let me see you once more among your
natural friends, beloved, respected, happy!'

'Oh, return! let us return home!' cried Miss Nugent, with a voice of
great emotion. 'Return, let us return home! My beloved aunt, speak to
us! say that you grant our request!'

She kneeled beside Lord Colambre, as she spoke.

'Is it possible to resist that voice--that look?' thought Lord Colambre.

'If anybody knew,' said Lady Clonbrony, 'if anybody could conceive, how
I detest the sight, the thoughts of that old yellow damask furniture, in
the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle--'

'Good heavens!' cried Lord Colambre, starting up, and looking at his
mother in