exertions, that on the second morning of our tour--for we proceeded
through the county for three days--he came laughing into my
dressing-room, with a newspaper in his hand.

"Here, Lorrequer," said he, "here's news for you. You certainly must
read this," and he handed me a copy of the "Clare Herald," with an
account of our meeting the evening before.

After glancing my eye rapidly over the routine usual in such cases
--Humph, ha--nearly two hundred people--most respectable farmers--room
appropriately decorated--"Callonby Arms"--"after the usual loyal toasts,
the chairman rose"--Well, no matter. Ah! here it is: "Mr. Lorrequer here
addressed the meeting with a flow of eloquence it has rarely, if ever,
been our privilege to hear equalled. He began by"--humph--

"Ah," said his lordship, impatiently, "you will never find it out--look
here--'Mr. Lorrequer, whom we have mentioned as having made the highly
exciting speech, to be found in our first page, is, we understand, the
son of Sir Guy Lorrequer, of Elton, in Shropshire--one of the wealthiest
baronets in England. If rumour speak truly, there is a very near
prospect of an alliance between this talented and promising young
gentleman, and the beautiful and accomplished daughter of a certain
noble earl, with whom he has been for some time domesticated."

"Eh, what think you? Son of Sir Guy Lorrequer. I always thought my old
friend a bachelor, but you see the 'Clare Herald' knows better. Not to
speak of the last piece of intelligence, it is very good, is it not?"

"Capital, indeed," said I, trying to laugh, and at the same time blushing
confoundedly, and looking as ridiculously as need be.

It now struck me forcibly that there was something extremely odd in his
lordship's mention of this paragraph, particularly when coupled with his
and Lady Callonby's manner to me for the last two months. They knew
enough of my family, evidently, to be aware of my station and prospects
--or rather my want of both--and yet, in the face of this, they not only
encouraged me to prolong a most delightful visit, but by a thousand daily
and dangerous opportunities, absolutely threw me in the way of one of the
loveliest of her sex, seemingly without fear on their parts. "'Eh bien,'"
thought I, with my old philosophy, "Time, that 'pregnant old gentleman,'
will disclose all, and so 'laisse, aller.'"

My reveries on my good and evil fortune were suddenly interrupted by a
letter which reac