‘And now,’ cried Lord Colambre, ’I am happy, positively happy.  Acknowledge your grand-daughter, sir—­acknowledge Miss Nugent.’

‘Acknowledge who, sir?’

’Acknowledge Miss Reynolds—­your grand-daughter; I ask no more—­do what you will with your fortune.’

’Oh, now I understand—­I begin to understand this young gentleman is in love—­but where is my grand-daughter?—­how shall I know she is my grand-daughter?  I have not heard of her since she was an infant—­I forgot her existence—­I have done her great injustice.’

‘She knows nothing of it, sir,’ said Lord Colambre, who now entered into a full explanation of Miss Nugent’s history, and of her connexion with his family, and of his own attachment to her; concluding the whole by assuring Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every virtue under heaven.  ’And as to your fortune, sir, I know that she will, as I do, say—­’

‘No matter what she will say,’ interrupted old Reynolds; ’where is she?  When I see her, I shall hear what she says.  Tell me where she is let me see her.  I long to see whether there is any likeness to her poor father.  Where is she?  Let me see her immediately.’

‘She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir, at Buxton.’

’Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles?  I suppose you think I can’t stir from my chair, but you are mistaken.  I think nothing of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles—­I’m ready to set off to-morrow—­this instant.’

Lord Colambre said, that he was sure Miss Reynolds would obey her grandfather’s slightest summons, as it was her duty to do, and would be with him as soon as possible, if this would be more agreeable to him.  ’I will write to her instantly,’ said his lordship, ’if you will commission me.’

’No, my lord, I do not commission—­I will go—­I think nothing, I say, of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles—­I’ll go—­and set out to-morrow morning.’

Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with the result of their visit, now thought it best to leave old Reynolds at liberty to rest himself, after so many strong and varied feelings.  They paid their parting compliments, settled the time for the next day’s journey, and were just going to quit the room when Lord Colambre heard in the passage a well-known voice the voice of Mrs. Petito.

’Oh no, my compliments, and my Lady Dashfort’s best compliments, and I will call again.’

‘No, no,’ cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; ’I’ll have no calling again—­I’ll be hanged if I do!  Let her in now, and I’ll see her—­Jack! let in that woman now or never.’

‘The lady’s gone, sir, out of the street door.’

‘After her, then—­now or never, tell her.’

‘Sir, she was in a hackney coach.’

Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing the hackney coachman just turning beckoned at the window, and Mrs. Petito was set down again, and ushered in by Jack, who announced her as—­