young earl to himself. And all boys long to be
allowed utterance occasionally for these soft tender things;--as
also do all men, unless the devil's share in the world has become
altogether uppermost with them.

And the young lad's heart hankered after his old friend. He had
listened to his sister, and for a while had taken her part; but his
mother had since whispered to him that Owen would now be the better
suitor, the preferable brother-in-law; and that in fact Clara loved
Owen the best, though she felt herself bound by honour to his
kinsman. And then she reminded her son of Clara's former love for
Owen--a love which he himself had witnessed; and he thought of the
day when with so much regret he had told his friend that he was
unsuited to wed with an earl's penniless daughter. Of the subsequent
pleasantness which had come with Herbert's arrival, he had seen
little or nothing. He had been told by letter that Herbert
Fitzgerald, the prosperous heir of Castle Richmond, was to be his
future brother-in-law, and he had been satisfied. But now, if Owen
could return--how pleasant it would be!

"But a chap when he marries should have something; shouldn't he now?"
So spoke the young earl, re-echoing his mother's prudence.

Herbert did not quite like this interference on the boy's part. Was
he to explain to a young lad from Eton what his future intentions
were with reference to his mode of living and period of marriage? "Of
course," he said, addressing himself to the countess, "I shall not
insist on an engagement made under such different circumstances."

"Nor will you allow her to do so through a romantic feeling of
generosity," said the countess.

"You should know your own daughter, Lady Desmond, better than I do,"
he answered; "but I cannot say what I may do at her instance till I
shall have seen her."

"Do you mean to say that you will allow a girl of her age to talk you
into a proceeding which you know to be wrong?"

"I will allow no one," he said, "to talk me into a proceeding which
I know to be wrong; nor will I allow any one to talk me out of a
proceeding which I believe to be right." And then, having uttered
these somewhat grandiloquent words, he shut himself up as though
there were no longer any need for discussing the subject.

"My poor child!" said the countess, in a low tremulous voice, as
though she did not intend him to hear them. "My poor unfortunate
child!" Herbert as he did hear them thought of the wom