'
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same moment, stopped
Lord Clonbrony as he was quitting the room, and then approached Lady
Clonbrony with supplicating looks; but she turned her head to the other
side, and, as if putting away their entreaties, made a repelling
motion with both her hands, and exclaimed, 'No, Grace Nugent!-no,
Colambre--no--no, Colambre! I'll never hear of leaving Lon'on--there's
no living out of Lon'on--I can't, I won't live out of Lon'on, I say.'
Her son saw that the LONDONOMANIA was now stronger than ever upon her,
but resolved to make one desperate appeal to her natural feelings,
which, though smothered, he could not believe were wholly extinguished;
he caught her repelling hands, and pressing them with respectful
tenderness to his lips--
'Oh, my dear mother, you once loved your son,' said he; 'loved him
better than anything in this world; if one spark of affection for him
remains, hear him now, and forgive him, if he pass the bounds--bounds
he never passed before of filial duty. Mother, in compliance with your
wishes my father left Ireland--left his home, his duties, his friends,
his natural connexions, and for many years he has lived in England, and
you have spent many seasons in London.
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