n, if they were
only sent up to him disguised as a turbot--the divine old lobster, for
his thin red nose is a perfect claw--the divine old lobster couldn't
tell me whether there was a God or not. Curse him, not he; but hold, I
must not be too severe upon him: his god is his belly, and mine was my
ambition. Oh, oh! what is this--what does it all mean? What has
happened to me? Oh, I am ill, I fear: perhaps I am mad. Is the Countess
there--the Countess of Cullamore, I mean?"

Many of his subsequent incoherencies were still more violent and
appalling, and sometimes he would have got up and committed acts of
outrage, if he had not been closely watched and restrained by force.
Whether his complaint was insanity or brain fever, or the one as
symptomatic of the other, even his medical attendants could scarcely
determine. At all events, whatever medical skill and domestic attention
could do for him was done, but with very little hopes of success.

The effect of the scene which the worn and invalid Earl had witnessed at
Sir Thomas Gourlay's were so exhausting to his weak frame that they left
very little strength behind them. Yet he complained of no particular
illness; all he felt was, an easy but general and certain decay of his
physical powers, leaving the mind and intellect strong and clear. On the
day following the scene in the baronet's house, we must present him to
the reader seated, as usual--for he could not be prevailed upon to keep
his bed--in his arm-chair, with the papers of the day before him. Near
him, on another seat, was Sir Edward Gourlay.

"Well, Sir Edward, the proofs, you say, have been all satisfactory."

"Perfectly so, my lord," replied the young baronet; "we did not allow
yesterday to close without making everything clear. We have this morning
had counsel's opinion upon it, and the proof is considered decisive."

"But is Lady Emily herself aware of your attachment?"

"Why, my lord," replied Sir Edward, blushing a little, "I may say I
think that--ahem!--she has, in some sort, given--a--ahem!--a kind of
consent that I should speak to your lordship on the subject.'

"My dear young friend," said his lordship, whose voice became tremulous,
and whose face grew like the whitest ashes.

"Have you got ill, my lord?" asked Sir Edward, a good deal alarmed:
"shall I ring for assistance?"

"No," replied his lordship; "no; I only wish to say that you know not
the extent of your own generosity in making this propo