"You know it all now, my boy," said Owen, looking up at last; and as he did so there was an expression about his face to which the young earl thought that he had never seen the like. There was a gleam in his eye which, though not of joy, was so bright; and a smile round his mouth which was so sweet, though full of sadness! "How can she not love him?" said he to himself, thinking of his sister. "And now, Desmond, go back to your mother and tell her all. She has sent you here."
"No, she did not send me," said the boy, stoutly,—almost angrily; "she does not even know that I have come."
"Go back then to your sister."
"Nor does she know it."
"Nevertheless, go back to them, and tell them both what I have told you; and tell them this also, that I, Owen Fitzgerald of Hap House, still love her better than all that the world else can give me; indeed, there is nothing else that I do love,—except you, Desmond. But tell them also that I am Owen of Hap House still—that and nothing more."
"Owen," said the lad, looking up at him; and Fitzgerald as he glanced into the boy's face could see that there was that arising within his breast which almost prevented him from speaking.
"And look, Desmond," continued Fitzgerald; "do not think that I shall blame you because you turn from me, or call you mercenary. Do you do what you think right. What you said just now of your sister's—, well, of the possibility of our marriage, you said under the idea that I was a rich man. You now find that I am a poor man; and you may consider that the words were never spoken."
"Owen!" said the boy again; and now that which was before rising in his breast had risen to his brow and cheeks, and was telling its tale plainly in his eyes. And then he rose from his chair, turning away his face, and walking towards the window; but before he had gone two steps he turned again, and throwing himself on Fitzgerald's breast, he burst out into a passion of tears.
"Come, old fellow, what is this? This will never do," said Owen. But his own eyes were full of tears also, and he too was nearly past speaking.
"I know you will think—I am a boy and a—fool," said the earl, through his sobs, as soon as he could speak; "but I can't—help it."