rom himself. He could not now be there at
the house without showing that he both loved and knew that he was
beloved. And then why should Lady Desmond not know it? Why should he
think that she would set herself against the match? He had certainly
spoken to Clara of the difference in their rank; but, after all, it
was no uncommon thing for an earl's daughter to marry a commoner.
And in this case the earl's daughter was portionless, and the lover
desired no portion. Owen Fitzgerald at any rate might boast that he
was true and generous in his love.

So he plucked up his courage, and walked on with a smiling face to
meet Lady Desmond and her son; while poor Clara crept beside him with
eyes downcast, and in an agony of terror.

Lady Desmond had not left the house with any apprehension that there
was aught amiss. Her son had told her that Owen had gone off "to do
the civil to Clara;" and as he did not come to the house within some
twenty minutes after this, she had proposed that they would go and
meet him.

"Did you tell him that I wanted him?" said the countess.

"Oh, yes, I did; and he is coming, only he would go away to Clara."

"Then I shall scold him for his want of gallantry," said Lady
Desmond, laughing, as they walked out together from beneath the huge
portal.

But as soon as she was near enough to see the manner of their gait,
as they slowly came on towards her, her woman's tact told her that
something was wrong;--and whispered to her also what might too
probably be the nature of that something. Could it be possible, she
asked herself, that such a man as Owen Fitzgerald should fall in love
with such a girl as her daughter Clara?

"What shall I say to mamma?" whispered Clara to him, as they all drew
near together.

"Tell her everything."

"But, Patrick--"

"I will take him off with me if I can." And then they were all
together, standing in the road.

"I was coming to obey your behests, Lady Desmond," said Fitzgerald,
trying to look and speak as though he were at his ease.

"Coming rather tardily, I think," said her ladyship, not altogether
playfully.

"I told him you wanted him, as we were crossing to the house," said
the earl. "Didn't I, Owen?"

"Is anything the matter with Clara?" said Lady Desmond, looking at
her daughter.

"No, mamma," said Clara; and she instantly began to sob and cry.

"What is it, sir?" And as she asked she turned to Fitzgerald; and her
manner now at least had in it nothin