hter understood them as well as she herself did. And
then she had to make it also intelligible to Clara that Owen would
be called on, when Sir Thomas should die, to fill the position and
enjoy the wealth accruing to the heir of Castle Richmond. When Owen
Fitzgerald's name was mentioned a slight blush came upon Clara's
cheek; it was very slight, but nevertheless her mother saw it, and
took advantage of it to say a word in Owen's favour.

"Poor Owen!" she said. "He will not be the first to triumph in this
change of fortune."

"I am sure he will not," said Clara. "He is much too generous for
that." And then the countess began to hope that the task might not
be so very difficult. Ignorant woman! Had she been able to read one
page in her daughter's heart, she would have known that the task was
impossible. After that the story was told out to the end without
further interruption; and then Clara, hiding her face within her
hands on the head of the sofa, uttered one long piteous moan.

"It is all very dreadful," said the countess.

"Oh, Lady Fitzgerald, dear Lady Fitzgerald!" sobbed forth Clara.

"Yes, indeed. Poor Lady Fitzgerald! Her fate is so dreadful that I
know not how to think of it."

"But, mamma--" and as she spoke Clara pushed back from her forehead
her hair with both her hands, showing, as she did so, the form of her
forehead, and the firmness of purpose that was written there, legible
to any eyes that could read. "But, mamma, you are wrong about my not
marrying Herbert Fitzgerald. Why should I not marry him? Not now, as
we, perhaps, might have done but for this; but at some future time
when he may think himself able to support a wife. Mamma, I shall not
break our engagement; certainly not."

This was said in a tone of voice so very decided that Lady Desmond
had to acknowledge to herself that there would be difficulty in her
task. But she still did not doubt that she would have her way, if
not by concession on the part of her daughter, then by concession on
the part of Herbert Fitzgerald. "I can understand your generosity
of feeling, my dear," she said; "and at your age I should probably
have felt the same. And therefore I do not ask you to take any
steps towards breaking your engagement. The offer must come from Mr.
Fitzgerald, and I have no doubt that it will come. He, as a man of
honour, will know that he cannot now offer to marry you; and he will
also know, as a man of sense, that it would be ruin for him