'Gone! for ever gone from me!' said Lord Colambre to himself, as the carriage drove away.'Never shall I see her more--never WILL I see her more, till she is married.'
Lord Colambre went to his own room, locked the door, and was relieved in some degree by the sense of privacy; by the feeling that he could now indulge his reflections undisturbed.He had consolation--he had done what was honourable--he had transgressed no duty, abandoned no principle--he had not injured the happiness of any human being--he had not, to gratify himself, hazarded the peace of the woman he loved--he had not sought to win her heart.
Of her innocent, her warm, susceptible heart, he might perhaps have robbed her--he knew it--but he had left it untouched, he hoped entire, in her own power, to bless with it hereafter some man worthy of her.In the hope that she might be happy, Lord Colambre felt relief; and in the consciousness that he had made his parents happy, he rejoiced.But, as soon as his mind turned that way for consolation, came the bitter concomitant reflection, that his mother must be disappointed in her hopes of his accompanying her home, and of his living with her in Ireland; she would be miserable when she should hear that he was going abroad into the army--and yet it must be so--and he must write, and tell her so.'The sooner this difficulty is off my mind, the sooner this painful letter is written, the better,' thought he.'It must be done--I will do it immediately.'
He snatched up his pen, and began a letter.
My dear mother--Miss Nugent--'
He was interrupted by a knock at his door.
'A gentleman below, my lord,' said a servant, 'who wishes to see you.'
I cannot see any gentleman.Did you say I was at home?'
'No,my lord; I said you was not at home; for I thought you would not choose to be at home, and your own man was not in the way for me to ask--so I denied you; but the gentleman would not be denied; he said I must come and see if you was at home.So, as he spoke as if he was a gentleman not used to be denied, Ithought it might be somebody of consequence, and I showed him into the front drawing-room.I think he said he was sure you'd be at home for a friend from Ireland.'
'A friend from Ireland! Why did not you tell me that sooner?'
said Lord Colambre, rising, and running downstairs.'Sir James Brooke, I daresay.'
No, not Sir James Brooke; but one he was almost as glad to see --Count O'Halloran!
'My dear count! the greater pleasure for being unexpected.'
'I came to London but yesterday,' said the count; 'but I could not be here a day, without doing myself the honour of paying my respects to Lord Colambre.'
'You do me not only honour, but pleasure, my dear count.People when they like one another, always find each other out, and contrive to meet even in London.'
'You are too polite to ask what brought such a superannuated militaire as I am,' said the count, 'from his retirement into this gay world again.A relation of mine, who is one of our Ministry, knew that I had some maps, and plans, and charts, which might be serviceable in an expedition they are planning.I might have trusted my charts across the channel, without coming myself to convoy them, you will say.But my relation fancied--young relations, you know, if they are good for anything, are apt to overvalue the heads of old relations--fancied that mine was worth bringing all the way from Halloran Castle to London, to consult with TETE-A-TETE.So you know, when this was signified to me by a letter from the secretary in office, PRIVATE, MOSTCONFIDENTIAL, what could I do, but do myself the honour to obey?
For though honour's voice cannot provoke the silent dust, yet "flattery soothes the dull cold ear of AGE."--But enough, and too much of myself,' said the count: 'tell me, my dear lord, something of yourself.I do not think England seems to agree with you so well as Ireland; for, excuse me, in point of health, you don't look like the same man I saw some weeks ago.'
'My mind has been ill at ease of late,' said Lord Colambre.
'Ay, there's the thing! The body pays for the mind--but those who have feeling minds, pain and pleasure altogether computed, have the advantage; or at least they think so; for they would not change with those who have them not, were they to gain by the bargain the most robust body that the most selfish coxcomb, or the heaviest dunce extant, ever boasted.For instance, would you now, my lord, at this moment change altogether with Major Benson, or Captain Williamson, or even our friend, "Eh, really now,'pon honour"--would you!--I'm glad to see you smile.'
'I thank you for making me smile, for I assure you I want it.Iwish--if you would not think me encroaching upon your politeness and kindness in honouring me with this visit--You see,' continued he, opening the doors of the back drawing-room, and pointing to large packages--'you see we are all preparing for a march; my mother has left town half an hour ago--my father engaged to dine abroad--only I at home--and, in this state of confusion, could Ieven venture to ask Count O'Halloran to stay and dine with me, without being able to offer him Irish ortolans or Irish plums--in short, will you let me rob you of two or three hours of your time? I am anxious to have your opinion on a subject of some importance to me, and on one where you are peculiarly qualified to judge and decide for me.'
'My dear lord, frankly, I have nothing half so good or so agreeable to do with my time; command my hours.I have already told you how much it flatters me to be consulted by the most helpless clerk in office; how much more about the private concerns of an enlightened young--friend, will Lord Colambre permit me to say? I hope so; for though the length of our acquaintance might not justify the word, yet regard and intimacy are not always in proportion to the time people have known each other, but to their mutual perception of certain attaching qualities, a certain similarity and suitableness of character.'
