Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have
nothing to do with these dangerous ladies; indeed, though he had talked,
he had scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was intent upon
that packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs. Petito said she had for him. He
heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent his servant every
day to Stephen's Green to inquire if Lady Dashfort had returned to town.
Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito could not deliver the
parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre's own, and she would not stir
out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer able to restrain his
impatience, Lord Colambre went himself--knocked at Lady Dashfort's
door--inquired for Mrs. Petito--was shown into her parlour. The parcel
was delivered to him; but to his utter disappointment, it was a parcel
FOR, not FROM Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd volume of some
book of Miss Nugent's which Mrs. Petito said she had put up along with
her things IN A MISTAKE, and she thought it her duty to return it by the
next opportunity of a safe conveyance.
Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was
fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent's name, written by her own hand, in
the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an
interesting-looking woman, in deep mourning, appeared--appeared for one
moment, and retired.
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