"It is very easily understood, however, Miss Gourlay. This gentleman's
father was the late Earl's brother; and he being now dead, his son here
inherits the title of Lord Dunroe."

"But the late Earl's son?"

"Has no claim to the title, Miss Gourlay. His lordship here will give
you the particulars at leisure, and on a more befitting occasion. I saw
the late Earl to-day, not long before his death. He was calm, resigned,
and full of that Christian hope which makes the death of the righteous
so beautiful. He was not, indeed, without sorrow; but it was soothed by
his confidence in the mercy of God, and his belief in the necessity and
wisdom of sorrow and affliction to purify and exalt the heart."

"And now, Lucy," said the stranger--for so we shall call him
still--taking her hand in his, "I trust that all obstacles between our
union are removed at last. Our love has been strongly tested, and you
especially have suffered much. Your trust in Providence, however, like
that of Lady Gourlay, has not been in vain; and as for me, I learned
much, and I hope to learn more, from your great and noble example. I
concealed my name for many reasons: partly from delicacy to my uncle,
the late Earl, and his family; and I was partly forced to do it, in
consequence of an apprehension that I had killed a nobleman in a hasty
duel. He was not killed, however, thank God; nor was his wound so
dangerous as it looked at first; neither was I aware until afterwards
that the individual who forced me into it was my own cousin Dunroe. It
would have been very inconvenient to me to have been apprehended and
probably cast into prison at a time when I had so many interests to
look after; and, indeed, not the least of my motives was the fear
of precipitating your father's enmity against Lady Gourlay's son, by
discovering that I, who am her nephew, should have been seen about the
town of Ballytrain, where, when a boy, I had spent a good deal of my
early life. Had he known my name, he would have easily suspected my
object. Your mother was aware of my design in coming to Ireland; but as
I knew the risk of involving my uncle's children, and the good old man's
reputation besides, in a mesh of public scandal at a time when I did
not feel certain of being able to establish my claims, or rather my
father's, for I myself was indifferent to them, I resolved to keep
as quiet as possible, and not to disclose myself even to you until
necessity should compel me."

M