stopped at once. Young as you are,
you cannot think that a marriage with Mr. Owen Fitzgerald would be a
proper match for you to make. Of course the whole thing must cease
at once--at once." Here there was another piteous sigh. "But before
I take any steps, I must know what you have said to him. Surely you
have not told him that you have any feeling for him warmer than
ordinary regard?"

Lady Desmond knew what she was doing very well. She was perfectly
sure that her daughter had pledged her troth to Owen Fitzgerald.
Indeed, if she made any mistake in the matter, it was in thinking
that Clara had given a more absolute assurance of love than had in
truth been extracted from her. But she calculated, and calculated
wisely, that the surest way of talking her daughter out of all hope,
was to express herself as unable to believe that a child of hers
would own to love for one so much beneath her, and to speak of such
a marriage as a thing absolutely impossible. Her method of acting
in this manner had the effect which she desired. The poor girl was
utterly frightened, and began to fear that she had disgraced herself,
though she knew that she dearly loved the man of whom her mother
spoke so slightingly.

"Have you given him any promise, Clara?"

"Not a promise, mamma."

"Not a promise! What then? Have you professed any regard for him?"
But upon this Clara was again silent.

"Then I suppose I must believe that you have professed a regard for
him--that you have promised to love him?"

"No, mamma; I have not promised anything. But when he asked me, I--I
didn't--I didn't refuse him."

It will be observed that Lady Desmond never once asked her daughter
what were her feelings. It never occurred to her to inquire, even
within her own heart, as to what might be most conducive to her
child's happiness. She meant to do her duty by Clara, and therefore
resolved at once to put a stop to the whole affair. She now desisted
from her interrogatories, and sitting silent for a while, looked out
into the extent of flat ground before the house. Poor Clara the while
sat silent also, awaiting her doom.

"Clara," said the mother at last, "all this must of course be made to
cease. You are very young, very young indeed, and therefore I do not
blame you. The fault is with him--with him entirely."

"No, mamma."

"But I say it is. He has behaved very badly, and has betrayed the
trust which was placed in him when he was admitted here so intimate