It is undoubtedly a very dangerous thing for a young
man of twenty-two to keep house by himself, either
in town or country.
OWEN FITZGERALD
I have tied myself down to thirteen years ago as the
time of my story; but I must go back a little beyond
this for its first scenes, and work my way up as quickly
as may be to the period indicated. I have spoken
of a winter in which Herbert Fitzgerald was at home
at Castle Richmond, having then completed his Oxford
doings; but I must say something of two years previous
to that, of a time when Herbert was not so well known
in the country as was his cousin of Hap House.
It was a thousand pities that a bad word should ever
have been spoken of Owen Fitzgerald; ten thousand
pities that he should ever have given occasion for
such bad word. He was a fine, high-spirited,
handsome fellow, with a loving heart within his breast,
and bright thoughts within his brain. It was
utterly wrong that a man constituted as he was should
commence life by living alone in a large country-house.
But those who spoke ill of him should have remembered
that this was his misfortune rather than his fault.
Some greater endeavour might perhaps have been made
to rescue him from evil ways. Very little such
endeavour was made at all. Sir Thomas once or
twice spoke to him; but Sir Thomas was not an energetic
man; and as for Lady Fitzgerald, though she was in
many things all that was excellent, she was far too
diffident to attempt the reformation of a headstrong
young man, who after all was only distantly connected
with her.
And thus there was no such attempt, and poor Owen
became the subject of ill report without any substantial
effort having been made to save him. He was a
very handsome man—tall, being somewhat over
six feet in height—athletic, almost more
than in proportion—with short, light chestnut-tinted
hair, blue eyes, and a mouth perfect as that of Phoebus.
He was clever, too, though perhaps not educated as
carefully as might have been: his speech was usually
rapid, hearty, and short, and not seldom caustic and
pointed. Had he fallen among good hands, he might
have done very well in the world’s fight; but
with such a character, and lacking such advantages,
it was quite as open to him to do ill. Alas!
the latter chance seemed to have fallen to him.
For the first year of his residence at Hap House,
he was popular enough among his neighbours. The
Hap House orgies were not commenced at once, nor when
commenced did they immediately become a subject of
scandal; and even during the second year he was tolerated;—tolerated
by all, and still flattered by some.
Among the different houses in the country at which
he had become intimate was that of the Countess of
Desmond. The Countess of Desmond did not receive
much company at Desmond Court. She had not the
means, nor perhaps the will, to fill the huge old house
with parties of her Irish neighbours—for
she herself was English to the backbone. Ladies
of course made morning calls, and gentlemen too, occasionally;
but society at Desmond Court was for some years pretty
much confined to this cold formal mode of visiting.
Owen Fitzgerald, however, did obtain admittance into
the precincts of the Desmond barracks.
