ncing, with
the loud music in the room, and the gay dresses and bright lights
around her, had been delightful. But then it had pained her--she knew
not why, but it had pained her--when her mother told her that people
would make remarks about her. Had she done anything improper on this
her first entry into the world? Was her conduct to be scanned, and
judged, and condemned, while she was flattering herself that no one
had noticed her but him who was speaking to her?

Their breakfast was late, and the countess sat, as was her wont, with
her book beside her tea-cup, speaking a word every now and again to
her son.

"Owen will be over here to-day," said he. "We are going to have a
schooling match down on the Callows." Now in Ireland a schooling
match means the amusement of teaching your horses to jump.

"Will he?" said Lady Desmond, looking up from her book for a moment.
"Mind you bring him in to lunch; I want to speak to him."

"He doesn't care much about lunch, I fancy," said he; "and, maybe, we
shall be half way to Millstreet by that time."

"Never mind, but do as I tell you. You expect everybody to be as wild
and wayward as yourself." And the countess smiled on her son in a
manner which showed that she was proud even of his wildness and his
waywardness.

Clara had felt that she blushed when she heard that Mr. Fitzgerald
was to be there that morning. She felt that her own manner became
constrained, and was afraid that her mother should look at her. Owen
had said nothing to her about love; and she, child as she was, had
thought nothing about love. But she was conscious of something, she
knew not what. He had touched her hand during those dances as it had
never been touched before; he had looked into her eyes, and her eyes
had fallen before his glance; he had pressed her waist, and she had
felt that there was tenderness in the pressure. So she blushed, and
almost trembled, when she heard that he was coming, and was glad in
her heart when she found that there was neither anger nor sunshine in
her mother's face.

Not long after breakfast, the earl went out on his horse, and met
Owen at some gate or back entrance. In his opinion the old house was
stupid, and the women in it were stupid companions in the morning.
His heart for the moment was engaged on the thought of making his
animal take the most impracticable leaps which he could find, and
it did not occur to him at first to give his mother's message to
his compani