In a second the truth flashed across me from whom this plot proceeded; and scarcely permitting myself time to read the letter through, I called out—
'This is a forgery! I never wrote it, never saw it before!'
'What!' said my father, starting round, and fixing his eye on the priest.
'You never wrote it?' echoed Father Tom. 'Do you say so? Is that your word as a gentleman?'
'It is,' said I firmly. 'This day, this very day, I have asked Miss Bellew to be my wife, and she has consented.'
Before my father could seize my hand, the good priest had thrown his arms round my neck and given me an embrace a bear might have envied. The scene that followed I cannot describe. My poor father, quite overpowered, sat down upon a chair, holding my hand within both his; while Father Tom bustled about the room, looking into all the glass and china ornaments for something to drink, as his mouth, he said, was like a lime-burner's hat. The honest fellow, it appeared, on receiving the letters signed with my name, left his home the same night and travelled with all speed to London, where he found my father just on the eve of leaving for Paris. Very little persuasion was necessary to induce him to continue his journey farther. On their arrival at Paris they had gone to O'Grady's hotel, where, securing Corny*s services, they lost not a moment in tracking me out in the manner I have mentioned.
O'Grady's surprise was little inferior to my own, as I introduced General Hinton and Father Loftus. But as to Mr. Rooney, he actually believed the whole to be a dream; and even when candles were brought, and he had taken a patient survey of the priest, he was far from crediting that my parent was not performed by deputy, till my father's tact and manner convinced him of his mistake.
While the priest was recounting some circumstances of his journey, I took occasion to tell my father of O'Grady's intentions regarding Julia, which with all the warmth of his nature he at once responded to; and touching his glass gaily with Phil's, merely added, 'With my best wishes.' Poor O'Grady caught up the meaning at once, and grasped his hand with enthusiasm, while the tears started to his eyes.
It would lead me too far, and perhaps where the goodnature of my reader might not follow me, were I to speak more of that happy evening. It is enough to say that Father Loftus won every moment on my father, who also was delighted with the hearty racinees of honest Paul. Their stores of pleasantry and fun, so new to him, were poured forth with profusion; and a party every member of which was more disposed to like one another and be pleased, never met together.
I myself, however, was not without my feeling of impatience to reach the drawing-room, which I took the first favourable opportunity of effecting—only then perceiving that O'Grady had anticipated me, having stolen away some time before.