Herbert gave him the required promise.
“Look here,” and he took up the letter
which he had before crumpled in his hand. “Mr.
Prendergast will be here next week. I shall tell
everything to him.”
Soon afterwards Sir Thomas went to his bed, and there
by his bedside his wife sat for the rest of the evening.
But he said no word to her of his sorrow.
“Mr. Prendergast is coming here,” said
Herbert to Mr. Somers.
“I am glad of it, though I do not know him,”
said Mr. Somers. “For, my dear boy, it
is necessary that there should be some one here.”
THE PATH BENEATH THE ELMS
It will be remembered that in the last chapter but
one Owen Fitzgerald left Lady Desmond in the drawing-room
at Desmond Court somewhat abruptly, having absolutely
refused to make peace with the Desmond faction by
giving his consent to the marriage between Clara and
his cousin Herbert. And it will perhaps be remembered
also, that Lady Desmond had asked for this consent
in a manner that was almost humble. She had shown
herself most anxious to keep on friendly terms with
the rake of Hap House,—rake and roue, gambler
and spendthrift, as he was reputed to be,—if
only he would abandon his insane claim to the hand
of Clara Desmond. But this feeling she had shown
when they two were alone together, after Clara had
left them. As long as her daughter had been present,
Lady Desmond had maintained her tone of indignation
and defiance; but, when the door was closed and they
two were alone, she had become kind in her language
and almost tender.
My readers will probably conceive that she had so
acted, overcome by her affection for Owen Fitzgerald
and with a fixed resolve to win him for herself.
Men and women when they are written about are always
supposed to have fixed resolves, though in life they
are so seldom found to be thus armed. To speak
the truth, the countess had had no fixed resolve in
the matter, either when she had thought about Owen’s
coming, or when, subsequently, she had found herself
alone with him in her drawing-room. That Clara
should not marry him,—on so much she had
resolved long ago. But all danger on that head
was, it may be said, over. Clara, like a good
child, had behaved in the best possible manner; had
abandoned her first lover, a lover that was poor and
unfitted for her, as soon as told to do so; and had
found for herself a second lover, who was rich, and
proper, and in every way desirable. As regards
Clara, the countess felt herself to be safe; and,
to give her her due, she had been satisfied that the
matter should so rest. She had not sought any
further interview with Fitzgerald. He had come
there against her advice, and she had gone to meet
him prompted by the necessity of supporting her daughter,
and without any other views of her own.
