would not have told this to you, my lord, if I could have conceived
that it would affect you so violently," pursued Lady Dashfort, in a
tone of raillery; "you see you are no worse off than we are. We have
an intermarriage with the St. Omars. I did not think you would be so
much shocked at a discovery, which proves that our family and yours
have some little connexion."

Lord Colambre endeavoured to answer, and mechanically said something
about "happy to have the honour." Lady Dashfort, truly happy to see
that her blow had hit the mark so well, turned from his lordship
without seeming to observe how seriously he was affected; and Lady
Isabel sighed, and looked with compassion on Lord Colambre, and then
reproachfully at her mother. But Lord Colambre heeded not her looks,
and heard none of her sighs; he heard nothing, saw nothing, though his
eyes were intently fixed on the genealogy, on which Lady Dashfort was
still descanting to Lady Killpatrick. He took the first opportunity he
could of quitting the room, and went out to take a solitary walk.

"There he is, departed, but not in peace, to reflect upon what has
been said," whispered Lady Dashfort to her daughter. "I hope it will
do him a vast deal of good."

"None of the women _sans reproche_! None!--without one exception,"
said Lord Colambre to himself; "and Grace Nugent's mother a St.
Omar!--Is it possible? Lady Dashfort seems certain. She could not
assert a positive falsehood--no motive. She does not know that Miss
Nugent is the person to whom I am attached--she spoke at random. And
I have heard it first from a stranger,--not from my mother. Why was
it kept secret from me? Now I understand the reason why my mother
evidently never wished that I should think of Miss Nugent--why she