ld he not be the
future husband of Lady Clara? not signify indeed!

"An' shure, Mr. Herbert, you haven't walked to Desmond Court this
blessed morning. Tare an' ages! Well; there's no knowing what you
young gentlemen won't do. But I'll see and get a pair of trousers of
my Lord's ready for you in two minutes. Faix, and he's nearly as big
as yourself, now, Mr. Herbert."

But Herbert would hardly speak to him, and gave no assent whatever as
to his proposition for borrowing the Earl's clothes. "I'll go in as
I am," said he. And the old man looking into his face saw that there
was something wrong. "Shure an' he ain't going to sthrike off now,"
said this Irish Caleb Balderstone to himself. He also as well as some
others about Desmond Court had feared greatly that Lady Clara would
throw herself away upon a poor lover.

It was now past noon, and Fitzgerald pressed forward into the room
in which Lady Clara usually sat. It was the same in which she had
received Owen's visit, and here of a morning she was usually to be
found alone; but on this occasion when he opened the door he found
that her mother was with her. Since the day on which Clara had
disposed of herself so excellently, the mother had spent more of
her time with her daughter. Looking at Clara now through Herbert
Fitzgerald's eyes, the Countess had began to confess to herself that
her child did possess beauty and charm.

She got up to greet her future son-in-law with a sweet smile and that
charming quiet welcome with which a woman so well knows how to make
her house pleasant to a man that is welcome to it. And Clara, not
rising, but turning her head round and looking at him, greeted him
also. He came forward and took both their hands, and it was not till
he had held Clara's for half a minute in his own that they both saw
that he was more than ordinarily serious. "I hope Sir Thomas is not
worse," said Lady Desmond, with that voice of feigned interest which
is so common. After all, if anything should happen to the poor old
weak gentleman, might it not be as well?

"My father has not been very well these last two days," he said.

"I am so sorry," said Clara. "And your mother, Herbert?"

"But Herbert, how wet you are. You must have walked," said the
Countess.

Herbert, in a few dull words said that he had walked. He had thought
that the walk would be good for him, and he had not expected that it
would be so wet. And then Lady Desmond, looking carefully into his
fa