‘Who is she?’ whispered her ladyship.

‘Does not your ladyship know Lady Oranmore—­the Irish Lady Oranmore?’

’Lord bless me!—­what have I said!—­what have I done!  Oh! why did not you give me a hint, Lady St. James?’

’I was not aware that your ladyship was not acquainted with Lady Oranmore,’ replied Lady St. James, unmoved by her distress.

Everybody sympathised with Lady Oranmore, and admired the honest zeal with which she abided by her country, and defended it against unjust aspersions and affected execrations.  Every one present enjoyed Lady Clonbrony’s confusion, except Miss Nugent, who sat with her eyes bowed down by penetrative shame during the whole of this scene; she was glad that Lord Colambre was not witness to it; and comforted herself with the hope that, upon the whole, Lady Clonbrony would be benefited by the pain she had felt.  This instance might convince her that it was not necessary to deny her country to be received in any company in England; and that those who have the courage and steadiness to be themselves, and to support what they feel and believe to be the truth, must command respect.  Miss Nugent hoped that in consequence of this conviction Lady Clonbrony would lay aside the little affectations by which her manners were painfully constrained and ridiculous; and, above all, she hoped that what Lady Oranmore had said of Ireland might dispose her aunt to listen with patience to all Lord Colambre might urge in favour of returning to her home.  But Miss Nugent hoped in vain.  Lady Clonbrony never in her life generalised any observations, or drew any but a partial conclusion from the most striking facts.

‘Lord! my dear Grace!’ said she, as soon as they were seated in their carriage, ’what a scrape I got into to-night at supper, and what disgrace I came to!—­and all this because I did not know Lady Oranmore.  Now you see the inconceivable disadvantage of not knowing everybody—­everybody of a certain rank, of course, I mean.’

Miss Nugent endeavoured to slide in her own moral on the occasion, but it would not do.

’Yes, my dear, Lady Oranmore may talk in that kind of style of Ireland, because, on the other hand, she is so highly connected in England; and, besides, she is an old lady, and may take liberties; in short, she is Lady Oranmore, and that’s enough.’

The next morning, when they all met at breakfast, Lady Clonbrony complained bitterly of her increased rheumatism, of the disagreeable, stupid party they had had the preceding night, and of the necessity of going to another formal party that night, the next, and the next, and, in the true fine lady style, deplored her situation, and the impossibility of avoiding those things,

     Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel.

Miss Nugent determined to retire as soon as she could from the breakfast-room, to leave Lord Colambre an opportunity of talking over his family affairs at full liberty.  She knew by the seriousness of his countenance that his mind was intent upon doing so, and she hoped that his influence with his father and mother would not be exerted in vain.  But just as she was rising from the breakfast-table, in came Sir Terence O’Fay, and, seating himself quite at his ease, in spite of Lady Clonbrony’s repulsive looks, his awe of Lord Colambre having now worn off—­