t exhibit before her eyes the project with which his bosom was
filled. This he did, standing for the most part before her, looking
down upon her as she sat beneath him, with her eyes fixed upon the
floor, while his were riveted on her down-turned face. She knew it
all before--all this that he had to say to her, or she would hardly
have understood it from his words, they were so rapid and vehement.
And yet they were tender, too; spoken in a loving tone, and
containing ever and anon assurances of respect, and a resolve to be
guided now and for ever by her wishes,--even though those wishes
should be utterly subversive of his happiness.

"And now you know it all," he said, at last. "And as for my cousin's
property, that is safe enough. No earthly consideration would induce
me to put a hand upon that, seeing that by all justice it is his."
But in this she hardly yet quite understood him. "Let him have what
luck he may in other respects, he shall still be master of Castle
Richmond. If it were that that you wanted--as I know it is not--that
I cannot give you. I cannot tell you with what scorn I should regard
myself if I were to take advantage of such an accident as this to rob
any man of his estate."

Her brother had been right, so Clara felt, when he declared that Owen
Fitzgerald was the finest fellow that ever he had come across. She
made another such declaration within her own heart, only with words
that were more natural to her. He was the noblest gentleman of whom
she had ever heard, or read, or thought.

"But," continued Owen, "as I will not interfere with him in that
which should be his, neither should he interfere with me in that
which should be mine. Clara, the only estate that I claim is your
heart."

And that estate she could not give him. On that at any rate she was
fixed. She could not barter herself about from one to the other
either as a make-weight or a counterpoise. All his pleading was in
vain; all his generosity would fail in securing to him this one
reward that he desired. And now she had to tell him so.

"Your brother seems to think," he continued, "that you still--;" but
now it was her turn to interrupt him.

"Patrick is mistaken," she said, with her eyes still fixed upon the
ground.

"What. You will tell me, then, that I am utterly indifferent to you?"

"No, no, no; I did not say so." And now she got up and took hold of
his arm, and looked into his face imploringly. "I did not say so.
But, oh,