to the window, looking out among the shrubs
into which Aby Mollett had been precipitated, as though he could
collect his thoughts there; and in a moment or two the earl followed
him, and looked out also among the shrubs. "They killed a fox exactly
there the other day; didn't they?" asked the earl, indicating the
spot by a nod of his head.

"Yes, they did." And then there was another pause. "I'll tell you
what it is, Desmond," Owen said at last, going back to the rug and
speaking with an effort. "As the people say, 'a sight of you is good
for sore eyes.' There is a positive joy to me in seeing you. It is
like a cup of cold water when a man is thirsty. But I cannot put the
drink to my lips till I know on what terms we are to meet. When last
we saw each other, we were speaking of your sister; and now that we
meet again, we must again speak of her. Desmond, all my thoughts
are of her; I dream of her at night, and find myself talking to her
spirit when I wake in the morning. I have much else that I ought to
think of; but I go about thinking of nothing but of her. I am told
that she is engaged to my cousin Herbert. Nay, she has told me so
herself, and I know that it is so. But if she becomes his wife--any
man's wife but mine--I cannot live in this country."

He had not said one word of that state of things in his life's
history of which the country side was so full. He had spoken of
Herbert, but he had not alluded to Herbert's fall. He had spoken of
such hope as he still might have with reference to Clara Desmond;
but he did not make the slightest reference to that change in his
fortunes--in his fortunes, and in those of his rival--which might
have so strong a bias on those hopes, and which ought so to have
in the minds of all worldly, prudent people. It was to speak of
this specially that Lord Desmond had come thither; and then, if
opportunity should offer, to lead away the subject to that other one;
but now Owen had begun at the wrong end. If called upon to speak
about his sister at once, what could the brother say, except that she
was engaged to Herbert Fitzgerald?

"Tell me this, Desmond, whom does your sister love?" said Owen,
speaking almost fiercely in his earnestness. "I know so much of you,
at any rate, that whatever may be your feelings you will not lie to
me,"--thereby communicating to the young lord an accusation, which he
very well understood, against the truth of the countess, his mother.

"When I have spo