breath of scandal, could rest--Grace could express
her sensations only by repeating, in tones of astonishment, pathos,
indignation--'My mother!--my mother!--my mother!'

For some time she was incapable of attending to any other idea, or
of feeling any other sensations. When her mind was able to admit the
thought, her friend soothed her, by recalling the expressions of Lord
Colambre's love--the struggle by which he had been agitated, when he
fancied a union with her opposed by an invincible obstacle.

Grace sighed, and acknowledged that, in prudence, it ought to have been
an invincible obstacle she admired the firmness of his decision, the
honour with which he had acted towards her. One moment she exclaimed,
'Then, if I had been the daughter of a mother who had conducted herself
ill, he never would have trusted me!'

The next moment she recollected, with pleasure, the joy she had just
seen in his eyes--the affection, the passion, that spoke in every word
and look; then dwelt upon the sober certainty, that all obstacles were
removed.

'And no duty opposes my loving him! And my aunt wishes it! my kind aunt!
And I may think of him.--You, my best friend, would not assure me of
this if you were not certain of the truth.--Oh, how can I thank you for
all your kindness, and for that best of all kindness, sympathy. You see,
your calmness, your strength of mind supports and tranquillises me. I
would rather have heard all I have just learnt from you than from any
other person living. I could not have borne it from any one else. No one
else knows my mind so perfectly--yet my aunt is very good,--and my dear
uncle! should not I go to him?--But he is not my uncle, she is not my
aunt. I cannot bring myself to think that they are not my relations, and
that I am nothing to them.'

'You may be everything to them, my dear Grace,' said Lady Berryl;
'whenever you please, you may be their daughter.'

Grace blushed, and smiled, and sighed, and was consoled. But then she
recollected her new relation Mr. Reynolds, her grandfather, whom she
had never seen, who had for years disowned her--treated her mother with
injustice. She could scarcely think of him with complaisancy; yet,
when his age, his sufferings, his desolate state, were represented, she
pitied him; and, faithful to her strong sense of duty, would have gone
instantly to offer him every assistance and attention in her power. Lady
Berryl assured her that Mr. Reynolds had positively