cellor look dignified on the
woolsack, if he had had an accident with his wig, or allowed his
robes to be torn or soiled? Does not half the piety of a bishop
reside in his lawn sleeves, and all his meekness in his anti-virile
apron? Had Herbert understood the world he would have had out the
best pair of horses standing in the Castle Richmond stables, when
going to Desmond Court on such an errand. He would have brushed his
hair, and anointed himself; he would have clothed himself in his rich
Spanish cloak; he would have seen that his hat was brushed, and his
boots spotless; and then with all due solemnity but with head erect,
he would have told his tale out boldly. The countess would still have
wished to be rid of him, hearing that he was a pauper; but she would
have lacked the courage to turn him from the house as she had done.

But seeing how wobegone he was and wretched, how mean to look at, and
low in his outward presence, she had been able to assume the mastery,
and had kept it throughout the interview. And having done this her
opinion of his prowess naturally became low, and she felt that he
would have been unable to press his cause against her.

For some time after he had departed, she sat alone in the room in
which she had received him. She expected every minute that Clara
would come down to her, still wishing however that she might be left
for a while alone. But Clara did not come, and she was able to pursue
her thoughts.

How very terrible was this tragedy that had fallen out in her close
neighbourhood! That was the first thought that came to her now that
Herbert had left her. How terrible, overwhelming, and fatal! What
calamity could fall upon a woman so calamitous as this which had
now overtaken that poor lady at Castle Richmond? Could she live
and support such a burden? Could she bear the eyes of people, when
she knew the light in which she must be now regarded? To lose at
one blow, her name, her pride of place, her woman's rank and high
respect! Could it be possible that she would still live on? It was
thus that Lady Desmond thought; and had any one told her that this
degraded mother would that very day come down from her room, and sit
watchful by her sleeping son, in order that she might comfort and
encourage him when he awoke, she would not have found it in her heart
to believe such a marvel. But then Lady Desmond knew but one solace
in her sorrows--had but one comfort in her sad reflections. She was