uch more important, that his sister should do
so. If she thinks that she can be happy in such a home as I can give
her, I do not know why he, or why you should object."

"You think, then, that I might give her to a blacksmith, if she
herself were mad enough to wish it?"

"I thank you for the compliment, Lady Desmond."

"You have driven me to it, sir."

"I believe it is considered in the world," said he,--"that is, in
our country, that the one great difference is between gentlemen
and ladies, and those who are not gentlemen or ladies. A lady does
not degrade herself if she marry a gentleman, even though that
gentleman's rank be less high than her own."

"It is not a question of degradation, but of prudence;--of the
ordinary caution which I, as a mother, am bound to use as regards my
daughter. Oh, Mr. Fitzgerald!" and she now altered her tone as she
spoke to him; "we have all been so pleased to know you, so happy to
have you there; why have you destroyed all this by one half-hour's
folly?"

"The folly, as you call it, Lady Desmond, has been premeditated for
the last twelve months."

"For twelve months!" said she, taken absolutely by surprise, and in
her surprise believing him.

"Yes, for twelve months. Ever since I began to know your daughter, I
have loved her. You say that your daughter is a child. I also thought
so this time last year, in our last winter holidays. I thought so
then; and though I loved her as a child, I kept it to myself. Now she
is a woman, and so thinking I have spoken to her as one. I have told
her that I loved her, as I now tell you that come what may I must
continue to do so. Had she made me believe that I was indifferent to
her, absence, perhaps, and distance might have taught me to forget
her. But such, I think, is not the case."

"And you must forget her now."

"Never, Lady Desmond."

"Nonsense, sir. A child that does not know her own mind, that thinks
of a lover as she does of some new toy, whose first appearance in the
world was only made the other night at your cousin's house! you ought
to feel ashamed of such a passion, Mr. Fitzgerald."

"I am very far from being ashamed of it, Lady Desmond."

"At any rate, let me tell you this. My daughter has promised me
most solemnly that she will neither see you again, nor have any
correspondence with you. And this I know of her, that her word is
sacred. I can excuse her on account of her youth; and, young as
she is, she already sees her