, Lord Mallow would not be thrust out. He
remained; in defiance of conscience, and honour, and all those good
sentiments that should have counselled his speedy departure.

CHAPTER VII.

"It might have been."

"They are the most curious pair of lovers I ever saw in my life," said
one of the visitors at Ashbourne, a young lady who had been engaged to
be married more than once, and might fairly consider herself an
authority upon such matters. "One never sees them together."

"They are cousins," replied her companion. "What can you expect from a
courtship between cousins? It must be the most humdrum affair possible."

"All courtships are humdrum, unless there is opposition from parents,
or something out of the common order to enliven them," said somebody
else.

The speakers were a party of young ladies, who were getting through an
idle hour after breakfast in the billiard-room.

"Lady Mabel is just the sort of girl no man could be desperately in
love with," said another. "She is very pretty, and elegant, and
accomplished, and all that sort of thing--but she is so overpoweringly
well satisfied with herself that it seems superfluous for anyone to
admire her.'

"In spite of that I know of someone in this house who does immensely
admire her," asserted the young lady who had spoken first. "Much more
than I should approve if I were Mr. Vawdrey."

"I think I know----" began somebody, and then abruptly remarked: "What
a too ridiculous stroke! And I really thought I was going to make a
cannon."

This sudden change in the current of the talk was due to the appearance
of the subject of this friendly disquisition. Lady Mabel had that
moment entered, followed by Lord Mallow, not intent on billiards, like
the frivolous damsels assembled round the table. There were book-cases
all along one side of the billiard-room, containing the surplus books
that had overrun the shelves in the library; and Mabel had come to look
for a particular volume among these. It was a treatise upon the
antiquities of Ireland. Lord Mallow and Lady Mabel had been disputing
about the Round Towers.

"Of course you are right," said the Irishman, when she had triumphantly
exhibited a page which supported her side of the argument. "What a
wonderful memory you have! What a wife you would make for a statesman!
You would be worth half-a-dozen secretaries!"

Mabel blushed, and smiled faintly, with lowered eyelids.

"Do you remember that concluding pictu