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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 301 pages of information about The Absentee.

I will hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto done, on every occasion where I have seen you act, what is right, and just, and kind.  Come here on the day you promised my aunt you would; before that time I shall be in Cambridgeshire, with my friend Lady Berryl; she is so good as to come to Buxton for me—­I shall remain with her, instead of returning to Ireland.  I have explained my reasons to my dear aunt—­Could I have any concealment from her, to whom, from my earliest childhood, I owe everything that kindness and affection could give?  She is satisfied—­she consents to my living henceforward with Lady Berryl.  Let me have the pleasure of seeing, by your conduct, that you approve of mine.—­Your affectionate cousin and friend, grace Nugent.

This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are capable of feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our hero exquisite pleasure.  Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O’Fay enjoyed his lordship’s delight; and forgot himself so completely, that he never even inquired whether Lord Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had spoken to him some time before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence’s interest.  The next morning, when the carriage was at the door, and Sir Terence was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and actually in tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he said there was none left now in London, or the wide world, even, for him—­Lord Colambre went up to him, and said, ’Sir Terence, you have never inquired whether I have done your business?’

’Oh, my dear, I’m not thinking of that now—­time enough by the post—­I can write after you; but my thoughts won’t turn for me to business now no matter.’

‘Your business is done,’ replied Lord Colambre.

’Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you had upon your mind and heart.  When anything’s upon my heart, good morning to my head, it’s not worth a lemon.  Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly, and all happiness attend you.’

‘Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O’Fay,’ said Lord Clonbrony; ’and, since it’s so ordered, I must live without you.’

’Oh! you’ll live better without me! my lord; I am not a good liver, I know, nor the best of all companions for a nobleman, young or old; and now you’ll be rich, and not put to your shifts and your wits, what would I have to do for you?—­Sir Terence O’Fay, you know, was only the poor NOBLEMAN’S friend, and you’ll never want to call upon him again, thanks to your jewel, your Pitt’s-di’mond of a son there.  So we part here, and depend upon it you’re better without me—­that’s all my comfort, or my heart would break.  The carriage is waiting this long time, and this young lover’s itching to be off.  God bless you both!—­that’s my last word.’

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