s. Should he tell the lord the exact truth, and explain all about
Frank Jones? It would be the honest thing to do. And yet he felt that
his girl should have another chance. This lord was not much to his
taste; but still, for a lord, he had his good points.

"I think we had better leave it for the present," said the lord. "I
feel that in the midst of all your eloquence I do not quite catch
Miss O'Mahony's meaning."

O'Mahony felt that this lord was as bad a lord as any of them. He
would like to force the lord to meet him at some debating club where
there was no wretched Speaker and there force him to give an answer
on any of the burning questions which now excited the two countries.

"Very well. I will explain to Rachel as soon as I can that the matter
is still left in abeyance. Of course we feel the honour done us by
your lordship in not desiring to accept at once her decision. Her
condition is no doubt sad. But I suppose she may expect to hear once
more from yourself in a short time."

So Mr. O'Mahony took his leave, and as he went to Cecil Street
endeavoured in his own mind to investigate the character of Lord
Castlewell. That he was a fool there could be no doubt, a fool with
whom he would not be forced to live in the constant intercourse of
married life for any money that could be offered to him. He was a man
who, without singing himself, cared for nothing but the second-hand
life of a theatre. But then he, Mr. O'Mahony, was not a young woman,
and was not expected to marry Lord Castlewell. But he had told
himself over and over again that Lord Castlewell had been "caught."
He was a great lord rolling in money, and Rachel had "caught" him.
He had not quite approved of Rachel's conduct, but the lord had been
fair game for a woman. What the deuce was he to think now of the lord
who would not be let off?

"I wonder whether it can be love for her," said he to himself; "such
love as I used to feel."

Then he sighed heavily as he went home.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

CAPTAIN CLAYTON'S FIRST TRIUMPH.

It was now April, and this April was a sad month in Ireland. I do
not know why the deaths of two such men as were then murdered should
touch the heart with a deeper sorrow than is felt for the fate of
others whose lot is lower in life; why the poor widow, who has
lost her husband while doing his duty amidst outrages and unmanly
revenges, is not to be so much thought of as the sweet lady who has
been robbed of her all