"But my mother says one thing, and you another, and Owen another; and I myself, I hardly know what to say."
"Look here, Patrick, it is simply this: I became engaged to Herbert with my mother's sanction and yours; and now—"
"Stop a moment," said the impetuous boy, "and do not pledge yourself to anything till you have heard me. I know that you are cut to the heart about Herbert Fitzgerald losing his property."
"No, indeed; not at all cut to the heart; that is as regards myself."
"I don't mean as regards yourself; I mean as regards him. I have heard you say over and over again that it is a piteous thing that he should be so treated. Have I not?"
"Yes, I have said that, and I think so."
"And I think that most of your great—great—great love for him, if you will, comes from that sort of feeling."
"But, Patrick, it came long before."
"Dear Clara, do listen to me, will you? You may at any rate do as much as that for me." And then Clara stood perfectly mute, looking into his handsome face as he continued to rattle out his words at her.
"Now if you please, Clara, you may have the means of giving back to him all his property, every shilling that he ever had, or expected to have. Owen Fitzgerald,—who certainly is the finest fellow that ever I came across in all my life, or ever shall, if I live to five hundred,—says that he will make over every acre of Castle Richmond back to his cousin Herbert if—" Oh, my lord, my lord, what a scheme is this you are concocting to entrap your sister! Owen Fitzgerald inserted no "if," as you are well aware! "If," he continued, with some little qualm of conscience, "if you will consent to be his wife."