'True! very true, Lady Berryl,' interrupted Lady Clonbrony; 'and I'll be as delicate as you please about it afterwards; but, in the first and foremost place, I must tell her the best part of the story—that she's an heiress, madam, never killed anybody!' So, darting through all opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her way into the room where Grace was lying—'Yes, get up! get up! my own Grace, and be surprised—well you may!—you are an heiress, after all.'
'Am I, my dear aunt?' said Grace.
'True, as I'm Lady Clonbrony—and a very great heiress—and no more Colambre's cousin than Lady Berryl here. So now begin and love him as fast as you please—I give my consent—and here he is.'
Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared at the door.
'Oh, mother! what have you done?'
'What have I done?' cried Lady Clonbrony, following her son's eyes:—'Lord bless me!—Grace fainted dead—lady Berryl? Oh, what have I done? My dear Lady Berryl, what shall we do?'
'There! her colour's coming again,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'come away, my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so will I—though I long to talk to the darling girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet.'
When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl leaning over her, and, raising herself a little, she said—
'What has happened?—I don't know yet—I don't know whether I am happy or not.'
Then seeing Lord Colambre, she sat quite upright. 'You received my letter, cousin, I hope?—Do you go to Ireland with my aunt?'