uch honor by expressing such a hope," said Cashel,
gravely; and then turning to Frobisher, added, "Will you drive me down
to Kingstown? I want to go on board for a few minutes."

"We see you at seven o'clock I hope?" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, in a whisper.

"I regret to have made an engagement for to-day, madam," replied
Cashel, stiffly. "Good-morning, ladies. Very sorry, Miss O'Hara, our sea
intentions have been a failure. Let me hope for better luck on land."

"Will you not be here this evening?" said Olivia, as he passed close
to her, and there was in the swimming eye and tremulous voice enough
to have melted a harder heart than Roland's; but this time he was proof
against all blandishments, and with a very cold negative, he departed.

"There is hope for you yet, old fellow," said Lord Charles, as he walked
downstairs beside him; "you did that extremely well."

Now, although Roland was far from knowing what he had done, or how to
merit the praises, he was too well pleased with the momentary repose the
flattery afforded to question further. Meanwhile, a very excited scene
took place in the house they had just quitted, and to which, for a brief
space, we must return.

On a sofa in one corner of the room sat Olivia Kennyfeck, pale and
trembling, her eyes tearful, and her whole air bespeaking grief and
agitation. At the window close by stood Miss Kennyfeck, the calm
composure of her face, the ease of her attitude, the very types of
internal quiet. She looked out, up the square, and playing on the
woodwork of the window an imaginary pianoforte air, while in the back
drawing-room sat Mrs. Kennyfeck and Miss O'Hara, side by side on a sofa,
their excited looks and heightened complexions attesting the animation
of the controversy, for such in reality it was.

"I thought you would go too far--I knew you would," said Mrs. Kennyfeck,
with an angry gesture of the hand.

"What do you mean by too far?" rejoined her sister. "Is it in the
face of a letter like this that you would permit him to continue his
attentions, and, worse still, let the girls go off for an excursion of
maybe a week or two? Read that."

"The letter is anonymous, and may be untrue from end to end."

"Then why not let me test its truth by some allusion to its contents?"

"And banish him from the house ever after," rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck,
bitterly. "No, no, Fanny, you mistake him very much; he isn't like one
of your old County Clare admirers, that can be hu