The Absentee [66]
it is to be had,' said the count. The whole dish vanished in a few seconds. ''Pon honour! I do believe this is the thing the queen's so fond of,' said Heathcock.
Then heartily did he drink of the count's excellent Hungarian wines; and, by the common bond of sympathy between those who have no other tastes but eating and drinking, the colonel, the major, and the captain were now all the best companions possible for one another.
Whilst 'they prolonged the rich repast,' Lady Dashfort and Lord Colambre went to the window to admire the prospect; Lady Dashfort asked the count the name of some distant hill.
'Ah!' said the count, 'that hill was once covered with fine wood; but it was all cut down two years ago.'
'Who could have been so cruel?' said her ladyship.
'I forget the present proprietor's name,' said the count; 'but he is one of those who, according to THE CLAUSE OF DISTRESS in their leases, LEAD, DRIVE, AND CARRY AWAY, but never ENTER their lands; one of those enemies to Ireland--these cruel absentees!' Lady Dashfort looked through her glass at the mountain; Lord Colambre sighed, and, endeavouring to pass it off with a smile, said frankly to the count--
'You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are speaking to the son of an Irish absentee family.--Nay, do not be shocked, my dear sir; I tell you only, because I thought it fair to do so; but let me assure you, that nothing you could say on that subject could hurt me personally, because I feel that I am not, that I never can be, an enemy to Ireland. An absentee, voluntarily, I never yet have been; and as to the future, I declare--'
'I declare you know nothing of the future,' interrupted Lady Dashfort, in a half-peremptory, half-playful tone--'you know nothing; make no rash vows, and you will break none.'
The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort's genius for intrigue gave her an air of frank imprudence, which prevented Lord Colambre from suspecting that more was meant than met the ear. The count and he took leave of one another with mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to have got our hero out of Halloran Castle.
CHAPTER IX
Lord Colambre had waited with great impatience for an answer to the letter of inquiry which he had written about Miss Nugent's mother. A letter from Lady Clonbrony arrived; he opened it with the greatest eagerness--passed over
'Rheumatism warm weather--warm bath--Buxton balls--Miss Broadhurst--your FRIEND, Sir Arthur Berryl, very assiduous!' The name of Grace Nugent he found at last, and read as follows:
Her mother's maiden name was ST. OMAR; and there was a FAUX PAS, certainly. She was, I am told (for it was before my time), educated at a convent abroad; and there was an affair with a Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were obliged to hush up. She brought an infant to England with her, and took the name of Reynolds--but none of that family would acknowledge her; and she lived in great obscurity, till your uncle Nugent saw, fell in love with her, and (knowing her whole history) married her. He adopted the child, gave her his name, and, after some years, the whole story was forgotten. Nothing could be more disadvantageous to Grace than to have it revived: this is the reason we kept it secret.
Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his countenance, she guessed the nature of the letter which he had been reading, and for the arrival of which he had been so impatient.
'It has worked!' said she to herself. 'POUR LE COUP PHILIPPE JE TE TIENS!'
Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible, than he bad ever yet seemed, to the charms of the fair Isabel.
'Many a tennis-ball, and many a heart is caught at the rebound,' said Lady Dashfort. 'Isabel! now is your time!'
And so it was--or so, perhaps, it would have been, but for a circumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius for intrigue, had never taken into her consideration. Count O'Halloran came to return the visit which had been paid to him; and, in the course
Then heartily did he drink of the count's excellent Hungarian wines; and, by the common bond of sympathy between those who have no other tastes but eating and drinking, the colonel, the major, and the captain were now all the best companions possible for one another.
Whilst 'they prolonged the rich repast,' Lady Dashfort and Lord Colambre went to the window to admire the prospect; Lady Dashfort asked the count the name of some distant hill.
'Ah!' said the count, 'that hill was once covered with fine wood; but it was all cut down two years ago.'
'Who could have been so cruel?' said her ladyship.
'I forget the present proprietor's name,' said the count; 'but he is one of those who, according to THE CLAUSE OF DISTRESS in their leases, LEAD, DRIVE, AND CARRY AWAY, but never ENTER their lands; one of those enemies to Ireland--these cruel absentees!' Lady Dashfort looked through her glass at the mountain; Lord Colambre sighed, and, endeavouring to pass it off with a smile, said frankly to the count--
'You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are speaking to the son of an Irish absentee family.--Nay, do not be shocked, my dear sir; I tell you only, because I thought it fair to do so; but let me assure you, that nothing you could say on that subject could hurt me personally, because I feel that I am not, that I never can be, an enemy to Ireland. An absentee, voluntarily, I never yet have been; and as to the future, I declare--'
'I declare you know nothing of the future,' interrupted Lady Dashfort, in a half-peremptory, half-playful tone--'you know nothing; make no rash vows, and you will break none.'
The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort's genius for intrigue gave her an air of frank imprudence, which prevented Lord Colambre from suspecting that more was meant than met the ear. The count and he took leave of one another with mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to have got our hero out of Halloran Castle.
CHAPTER IX
Lord Colambre had waited with great impatience for an answer to the letter of inquiry which he had written about Miss Nugent's mother. A letter from Lady Clonbrony arrived; he opened it with the greatest eagerness--passed over
'Rheumatism warm weather--warm bath--Buxton balls--Miss Broadhurst--your FRIEND, Sir Arthur Berryl, very assiduous!' The name of Grace Nugent he found at last, and read as follows:
Her mother's maiden name was ST. OMAR; and there was a FAUX PAS, certainly. She was, I am told (for it was before my time), educated at a convent abroad; and there was an affair with a Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were obliged to hush up. She brought an infant to England with her, and took the name of Reynolds--but none of that family would acknowledge her; and she lived in great obscurity, till your uncle Nugent saw, fell in love with her, and (knowing her whole history) married her. He adopted the child, gave her his name, and, after some years, the whole story was forgotten. Nothing could be more disadvantageous to Grace than to have it revived: this is the reason we kept it secret.
Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his countenance, she guessed the nature of the letter which he had been reading, and for the arrival of which he had been so impatient.
'It has worked!' said she to herself. 'POUR LE COUP PHILIPPE JE TE TIENS!'
Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible, than he bad ever yet seemed, to the charms of the fair Isabel.
'Many a tennis-ball, and many a heart is caught at the rebound,' said Lady Dashfort. 'Isabel! now is your time!'
And so it was--or so, perhaps, it would have been, but for a circumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius for intrigue, had never taken into her consideration. Count O'Halloran came to return the visit which had been paid to him; and, in the course