"I was wrong," said Miss Nugent, "to call myself a friend to Ireland;
I meant to say, that Ireland had been a friend to me: that I found
Irish friends, when I had no others; an Irish home, when I had no
other; that my earliest and happiest years, under your kind care, had
been spent there; and I can never forget _that_, my dear aunt--I hope
you do not wish that I should."

"Heaven forbid, my sweet Grace!" said Lady Clonbrony, touched by her
voice and manner; "Heaven forbid! I don't wish you to do or be any
thing but what you are; for I am convinced there's nothing I could ask
you would not do for me: and, I can tell you, there's few things you
could ask, love, I would not do for you."

A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.

Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the wishes
of others, understood and answered before she ventured to make her
request in words.

"Ask any thing but _that_, Grace--Return to Clonbrony, while I am able
to live in London? That I never can or will do for you or any body!"
looking at her son in all the pride of obstinacy: "so there is an end
of the matter. Go you where you please, Colambre; and I shall stay
where I please:--I suppose, as your mother, I have a right to say this
much?"

Her son, with the utmost respect, assured her that he had no design to
infringe upon her undoubted liberty of judging for herself; that he
had never interfered, except so far as to tell her circumstances of
her affairs with which she seemed to be totally unacquainted, and of