duced the girl to own that she did love him; but not
the less did he begin to see that the difficulties were far from
vanishing. Lady Desmond would never have taken upon herself to make a
journey to Hap House, had not a sentence of absolute banishment from
Desmond Court been passed against him.

"Mr. Fitzgerald," she began, as soon as she found herself alone with
him, "you will understand what has induced me to seek you here. After
your imprudence with Lady Clara Desmond, I could not of course ask
you to come to Desmond Court."

"I may have been presumptuous, Lady Desmond, but I do not think that
I have been imprudent. I love your daughter dearly, and I told her
so. Immediately afterwards I told the same to her brother; and she,
no doubt, has told the same to you."

"Yes, she has, Mr. Fitzgerald. Clara, as you are well aware, is a
child, absolutely a child; much more so than is usual with girls of
her age. The knowledge of this should, I think, have protected her
from your advances."

"But I absolutely deny any such knowledge. And more than that, I
think that you are greatly mistaken as to her character."

"Mistaken, sir, as to my own daughter?"

"Yes, Lady Desmond; I think you are. I think--"

"On such a matter, Mr. Fitzgerald, I need not trouble you for an
expression of your thoughts. Nor need we argue that subject any
further. You must of course be aware that all ideas of any such
marriage as this must be laid aside."

"On what grounds, Lady Desmond?"

Now this appeared to the countess to be rather impudent on the part
of the young squire. The reasons why he, Owen Fitzgerald of Hap
House, should not marry a daughter of an Earl of Desmond, seemed to
her to be so conspicuous and conclusive, that it could hardly be
necessary to enumerate them. And such as they were, it might not be
pleasant to announce them in his hearing. But though Owen Fitzgerald
was so evidently an unfit suitor for an earl's daughter, it might
still be possible that he should be acceptable to an earl's widow.
Ah! if it might be possible to teach him the two lessons at the same
time!

"On what grounds, Mr. Fitzgerald!" she said, repeating his question;
"surely I need hardly tell you. Did not my son say the same thing to
you yesterday, as he walked with you down the avenue?"

"Yes; he told me candidly that he looked higher for his sister; and I
liked him for his candour. But that is no reason that I should agree
with him; or, which is m