And then at about eleven o’clock, Herbert having
sat out the second bottle of claret, betook himself
to his bed at the lodgings over the covered way.
HOW THE EARL WAS WON
It was not quite at first that the countess could
explain to her son how she now wished that Owen Fitzgerald
might become her son-in-law. She had been so
steadfast in her opposition to Owen when the earl
had last spoken of the matter, and had said so much
of the wickedly dissipated life which Owen was leading,
that she feared to shock the boy. But by degrees
she brought the matter round, speaking of Owen’s
great good fortune, pointing out how much better he
was suited for riches than for poverty, insisting
warmly on all his good qualities and high feelings,
and then saying at last, as it were without thought,
“Poor Clara! She has been unfortunate, for
at one time she loved Owen Fitzgerald much better
than she will ever love his cousin Herbert.”
“Do you think so, mother?”
“I am sure of it. The truth is, Patrick,
you do not understand your sister; and indeed it is
hard to do so. I have also always had an inward
fear that she had now engaged herself to a man whom
she did not love. Of course as things were then
it was impossible that she should marry Owen; and
I was glad to break her off from that feeling.
But she never loved Herbert Fitzgerald.”
“Why, she is determined to have him, even now.”
“Ah, yes! That is where you do not understand
her. Now, at this special moment, her heart is
touched by his misfortune, and she thinks herself
bound by her engagement to sacrifice herself with
him. But that is not love. She has never
loved any one but Owen,—and who can wonder
at it? for he is a man made for a woman to love.”
The earl said nothing for a while, but sat balancing
himself on the back legs of his chair. And then,
as though a new idea had struck him, he exclaimed,
“If I thought that, mother, I would find out
what Owen thinks of it himself.”
“Poor Owen!” said the countess. “There
is no doubt as to what he thinks;” and then
she left the room, not wishing to carry the conversation
any further.
Two days after this, and without any further hint
from his mother, he betook himself along the banks
of the river to Hap House. In his course thither
he never let his horse put a foot upon the road, but
kept low down upon the water meadows, leaping over
all the fences, as he had so often done with the man
whom he was now going to see. It was here, among
these banks, that he had received his earliest lessons
in horsemanship, and they had all been given by Owen
Fitzgerald. It had been a thousand pities, he
had thought, that Owen had been so poor as to make
it necessary for them all to discourage that love
affair with Clara. He would have been so delighted
to welcome Owen as his brother-in-law. And as
he strode along over the ground, and landed himself
knowingly over the crabbed fences, he began to think
how much pleasanter the country would be for him if
he had a downright good fellow and crack sportsman
as his fast friend at Castle Richmond. Sir Owen
Fitzgerald of Castle Richmond! He would be the
man to whom he would be delighted to give his sister
Clara.
