o could prophecy to what Owen might be led with his
passionate impulses, his strong will, his unbridled temper, and his
love of pleasure? That he was noble-hearted, affectionate, brave, and
tender in his inmost spirit, Lady Desmond was very sure; but were
such the qualities which would make her daughter happy? When Clara
should come to know her future lord as Clara's mother knew him, would
Clara love him and worship him as her mother did? The mother believed
that Clara had not in her bosom heart enough for such a love. But
then, as I have said before, the mother did not know the daughter.

"You say that you will break all this to Clara," said Herbert, having
during this silence turned over some of his thoughts also in his
mind. "If so I may as well leave you now. You can imagine that I am
anxious to get back to my mother."

"Yes, it will be better that I should tell her. It is very sad, very
sad, very sad indeed."

"Yes; it is a hard load for a man to bear," he answered, speaking
very, very slowly. "But for myself I think I can bear it, if--"

"If what?" asked the countess.

"If Clara can bear it."

And now it was necessary that Lady Desmond should speak out. She did
not mean to be unnecessarily harsh; but she did mean to be decided,
and as she spoke her face became stern and ill-favoured. "That
Clara will be terribly distressed," she said, "terribly, terribly
distressed," repeating her words with great emphasis, "of that I am
quite sure. She is very young, and will, I hope, in time get over it.
And then too I think she is one whose feelings, young as she is, have
never conquered her judgment. Therefore I do believe that, with God's
mercy, she will be able to bear it. But, Mr. Fitzgerald--"

"Well?"

"Of course you feel with me--and I am sure that with your excellent
judgment it is a thing of course--that everything must be over
between you and Lady Clara." And then she came to a full stop as
though all had been said that could be considered necessary.

Herbert did not answer at once, but stood there shivering and shaking
in his misery. He was all but overcome by the chill of his wet
garments; and though he struggled to throw off the dead feeling of
utter cold which struck him to the heart, he was quite unable to
master it. He could hardly forgive himself that on such an occasion
he should have been so conquered by his own outer feelings, but now
he could not help himself. He was weak with hunger too--though