e will be better for talking it over with a man whom he trusts."

"And why not with Somers?" said Lady Fitzgerald.

"Somers is too often with him, too near to him in all the affairs of
his life. I really think he is wise to send for Mr. Prendergast. We
do not know him, but I believe him to be a good man."

Then Lady Fitzgerald had expressed herself as satisfied--as satisfied
as she could be, seeing that her husband would not take her into his
confidence; and after this it was settled that Herbert should at once
ride over to Desmond Court, and explain that Clara's visit had better
be postponed.

Herbert got off his horse at the gate, and gave it to one of the
children at the lodge to lead after him. His horse would not follow
him, Clara said to herself as they walked back together towards the
house. She could not prevent her mind running off in that direction.
She would fain not have thought of Owen as she thus hung upon
Herbert's arm, but as yet she had not learned to control her
thoughts. His horse had followed him lovingly--the dogs about the
place had always loved him--the men and women of the whole country
round, old and young, all spoke of him with a sort of love: everybody
admired him. As all this passed through her brain, she was hanging on
her accepted lover's arm, and listening to his soft sweet words.

"Oh, yes! it will be much better," she said, answering his proposal
that she should put off her visit to Castle Richmond. "But I am so
sorry that Sir Thomas should be ill. Mr. Prendergast is not a doctor,
is he?"

And then Herbert explained that Mr. Prendergast was not a doctor,
that he was a physician for the mind rather than for the body.
Regarding Clara as already one of his own family, he told her as much
as he had told his mother. He explained that there was some deep
sorrow weighing on his father's heart of which they none of them knew
anything save its existence; that there might be some misfortune
coming on Sir Thomas of which he, Herbert, could not even guess the
nature; but that everything would be told to this Mr. Prendergast.

"It is very sad," said Herbert.

"Very sad; very sad," said Clara, with tears in her eyes. "Poor
gentleman! I wish that we could comfort him."

"And I do hope that we may," said Herbert. "Somers seems to think
that his mind is partly affected, and that this misfortune, whatever
it be, may not improbably be less serious than we anticipate;--that
it weighs heavier on h