happy. Let me
not be the cause of your breaking your promise to your mother; of your
disappointing my dear aunt, so cruelly, who has complied with all our
wishes, and who sacrifices, to oblige us, her favourite tastes. How
could she ever be happy in Ireland--how could Clonbrony Castle be a home
to her, without her son? if you take away all she had of amusement
and PLEASURE, as it is called, are not you bound to give her, in their
stead, that domestic happiness, which she can enjoy only with you, and
by your means? If, instead of living with her, you go into the army, she
will be in daily, nightly anxiety and alarm about you; and her son will,
instead of being a comfort, be a source of torment to her.

I will hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto done, on
every occasion where I have seen you act, what is right, and just, and
kind. Come here on the day you promised my aunt you would; before that
time I shall be in Cambridgeshire, with my friend Lady Berryl; she is
so good as to come to Buxton for me--I shall remain with her, instead of
returning to Ireland. I have explained my reasons to my dear aunt--Could
I have any concealment from her, to whom, from my earliest childhood,
I owe everything that kindness and affection could give? She is
satisfied--she consents to my living henceforward with Lady Berryl. Let
me have the pleasure of seeing, by your conduct, that you approve of
mine.--Your affectionate cousin and friend, GRACE NUGENT.

This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are capable
of feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our hero exquisite
pleasure. Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O'Fay enjoyed his lordship's
delight; and forgot himself so completely, that he never even inquired
whether Lord Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had spoken
to him some time before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence's
interest. The next morning, when the carriage was at the door, and Sir
Terence was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and actually
in tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he said there was
none left now in London, or the wide world, even, for him--Lord Colambre
went up to him, and said, 'Sir Terence, you have never inquired whether
I have done your business?'

'Oh, my dear, I'm not thinking of that now--time enough by the post--I
can write after you; but my thoughts won't turn for me to business now
no matter.'

'Your business is don