tard the settlement of peaceful relations at least another century.
Had the Minister made the same concessions here he was glad to accord to
Scotland--had he, without insulting a nationality, converted it into a
banner under which loyalty was only rendered more conspicuous--you might
have, perchance, seen a different order of things in Ireland."

"For the life of me, I cannot see the evils and wrongs these people
labour under. I have a very large Irish acquaintance in London, and
pleasanter, happier fellows cannot exist than they are."

"All the young men of family in Ireland are not in the Guards," said
Hemsworth, with a smile, which, with all its blandishment, very thinly
covered over the sarcasm of his remark.

Frederick's face flushed angrily, and he turned away without speaking.

"Should we not ask pardon of the ladies for this subject of our
conversation?" said Hemsworth. "I am sure neither Miss Travers nor Miss
O'Donoghue deem the topic interesting or amusing."

"On the contrary, sir, I believe I may reply for both of us," said Kate,
"whatever concerns the fortunes of a country we have so near at heart,
has all our sympathy; and, as an Irish girl, I feel grateful for your
explanation of motives which, while I appreciate, I should still be
unable so satisfactorily to account for."

"How happy I am to meet my countrywoman's approval," said Hemsworth,
bowing courteously, and with a marked emphasis directing his speech to
Kate.

The manner in which he spoke the words was so palpably intended
for herself, that she felt all the charm of a flattery to which the
disparity of their years imparted force.

Soon after tea, Sir Marmaduke retired with Hemsworth to his study.
Frederick took his leave at the same time, and Sybella and Kate were
left alone together.

"I have a long letter to write this evening, my dear Sybella," said
Kate, after they had talked some time. "Poor Herbert has failed in his
examination, and I have promised to break the news to my uncle. Not so
difficult a task as the poor boy deems, but one to which he is himself
unequal."

"Does he then feel it so deeply?" said Sybella, timidly.

"Too much, as regards the object of the ambition; but no more than he
ought as a defeat. It is so bad to be beaten, Sybella," said she, with
a sharp distinctness on each word. "I shall hate the sight of that
University until he carries off the next prize; and then--then I care
not whether his taste incline him