ve got at magnifying everything! How
do you do, my Lady Dunroe? half a dozen times repeated, however, will
awaken her vanity, and banish all this girlish rodomontade."

"'Room for the Countess of Cullamore,' will soon follow," replied his
lordship, laughing, "and that will be still better. The old peer, as
Norton and I call him, is near the end of his journey, and will make his
parting bow to us some of these days."

"Did she actually consent, though?" asked the father, somewhat
doubtfully.

"Positively, Sir Thomas; make your mind easy upon that point. To be
sure, there were protestations and entreaties, and God knows what; but
still the consent was given."

"Exactly, exactly," replied her father; "I knew it would be so. Well,
now, let us not lose much time about it. I told those lawyers to wait a
little for further instructions, because I was anxious to hear how this
interview would end, feeling some apprehension that she might relapse
into obstinacy; but now that she has consented, we shall go on. They may
meet to-morrow, and get the necessary writings drawn up; and then for
the wedding."

"Will not my father's illness stand a little in the way?" asked Dunroe.

"Not a bit; why should it? But he really is not ill, only getting feeble
and obstinate. The man is in his dotage. I saw him yesterday, and he
refused, most perversely, to sanction the marriage until some facts
shall come to his knowledge, of which he is not quite certain at
present. I told him the young people would not wait; and he replied,
that if I give you my daughter now, I shall do so at my peril; and
that I may consider myself forewarned. I know he is thinking of your
peccadilloes, my lord, for he nearly told me as much before. I think,
indeed, he is certainly doting, otherwise there is no understanding
him."

"You are light, Sir Thomas; the fuss he makes about morality and
religion is a proof that he is. In the meantime, I agree with you
that there is little time to be lost. The lawyers must set to work
immediately; and the sooner the better, for I am naturally impatient."

They then shook hands very cordially, and Dunroe took his leave.

The reader may have observed that in this conversation the latter
reduced his account of the interview to mere generalities, a mode of
reporting it which was agreeable to both, as it spared each of them
some feeling. Dunroe, for instance, never mentioned a syllable of Lucy's
having frankly avowed her passion