e evils to a choice among
which his nephew had subjected himself.

And so the interview was over, and there had been no quarrel. Fred
Neville had given the Earl a positive promise that he would not marry
Kate O'Hara,--to whom he had sworn a thousand times that she should
be his wife. Such a promise, however,--so he told himself--is never
intended to prevail beyond the lifetime of the person to whom it is
made. He had bound himself not to marry Kate O'Hara while his uncle
lived, and that was all.

Or might it not be better to take his uncle's advice altogether and tell
the truth,--not to Kate, for that he could not do,--but to Mrs. O'Hara
or to Father Marty? As he thought of this he acknowledged to himself
that the task of telling such a truth to Mrs. O'Hara would be almost
beyond his strength. Could he not throw himself upon the priest's
charity, and leave it all to him? Then he thought of his own Kate, and
some feeling akin to genuine love told him that he could not part with
the girl in such fashion as that. He would break his heart were he to
lose his Kate. When he looked at it in that light it seemed to him that
Kate was more to him than all the family of the Scroopes with all their
glory. Dear, sweet, soft, innocent, beautiful Kate! His Kate who, as
he knew well, worshipped the very ground on which he trod! It was not
possible that he should separate himself from Kate O'Hara.

On his return to Ireland he turned that scheme of his over and over
again in his head. Surely something might be done if the priest would
stand his friend! What if he were to tell the whole truth to the
priest, and ask for such assistance as a priest might give him? But the
one assurance to which he came during his journey was this;--that when
a man goes in for adventures, he requires a good deal of skill and some
courage too to carry him through them.

VOLUME II.

CHAPTER I.

FROM BAD TO WORSE.

As he was returning to Ennis Neville was so far removed from immediate
distress as to be able to look forward without fear to his meeting with
the two ladies at Ardkill. He could as yet take his Kate in his arms
without any hard load upon his heart, such as would be there if he knew
that it was incumbent upon him at once to explain his difficulties. His
uncle was still living, but was old and still ill. He would naturally
make the most of the old man's age and infirmities. There was every
reason why they should wait, and no rea