with absolute silence."

"Nothing," he replied. "They are a nuisance, but we can do nothing."

But Lord Castlewell did in truth feel what was said about him. Was he
not going to pay too dearly for his whistle? No doubt Rachel was all
that she ought to be. She was honest, industrious, and high-spirited;
and, according to his thinking, she sang more divinely than any woman
of her time. And he so thought of her that he knew that she must be
his countess or be nothing at all to him. To think of her in any
other light would be an abomination to him. But yet, was it worth
his while to make her Marchioness of Beaulieu? He could only get rid
of his present engagement by some absolute change in his mode of
life. For instance, he must shut himself up in a castle and devote
himself entirely to a religious life. He must explain to her that
circumstances would not admit his marrying, and must offer to pay her
any sum of money that she or her father might think fit to name. If
he wished to escape, this must be his way; but as he looked at her
when she came off the stage, where he always attended her, he assured
himself that he did not wish to escape.

CHAPTER XXXV.

MR. O'MAHONY'S APOLOGY.

Time went on and Parliament met. Mr. O'Mahony went before the
Speaker's table and was sworn in. He was introduced by two brother
Landleaguers, and really did take his place with some enthusiasm. He
wanted to speak on the first day, but was judiciously kept silent by
his colleagues. He expressed an idea that, until Ireland's wrongs had
been redressed, there ought not to be a moment devoted to any other
subject, and became very violent in his expressions of this opinion.
But he was not long kept dumb. Great things were expected from
his powers of speech, and, though he had to be brought to silence
ignominiously on three or four occasions, still, at last some power
of speech was permitted to him. There were those among his own
special brethren who greatly admired him and praised him; but with
others of the same class there was a shaking of the head and many
doubts. With the House generally, I fear, laughter prevailed rather
than true admiration. Mr. O'Mahony, no doubt, could speak well in a
debating society or a music hall. Words came from his tongue sweeter
than honey. But just at the beginning of the session, the Speaker
was bound to put a limit even to Irish eloquence, and in this case
was able to do so. As Mr. O'Mahony contrived to