The influences of tranquillity that prevailed over the land appeared to have breathed their soothing sway over that humble dwelling, where life rolled on like an unruflled stream, each day happy with that monotony of enjoyment, so delicious to all whose minds have ever been tortured by the conflicting cares of the world.
For many a year long the O'Donoghue had not been so free from troubles. The loan he had contracted on Kate's fortune had relieved him from his most pressing embarrassments, and left him money enough to keep other creditors at bay. Sir Archy felt already he had received the earnest of that success he so ardently desired for Herbert, and in the calm of political life, hoped that the rash scheme in which Mark had em-. barked was even now becoming forgotten; and that the time was not far remote when no memory of it would be treasured against him. His own experience taught him, that sage lessons may be gathered from the failures and checks of youthful ambition, and in the changed features of Mark's character he augured most favourably for the future. But of all those on whom happier prospects shone, none revelled in the enjoyment so much as Herbert. The fascinations of that new world, of which he had only caught a glimpse, hung over him like a dream. Life opened for him at a moment when he himself had won distinction, while a new passion stirred his heart, and stimulated hope to the utmost. Kate, his companion throughout every day, was not slow to perceive the lurking secret of his thoughts, and soon led him to confide them to her. Herbert had never heard of Frederick Travers's attachment to his cousin, still less, suspected he had made a proposal of marriage to her. The studied avoidance of their names among his own family was a mystery he could not solve, and he referred to Kate for the explanation.
“How strange, Kate,” said he, one day, as they wandered along the glen somewhat further than usual, “how singular is this silence respecting the Travers's! I can make nothing of it. If I speak of them, no one speaks again—if I allude to them, the conversation suddenly stops. Tell me, if you know it, the secret of all this.”
Kate blushed deeply, and muttered something about old and half-remembered grudges, but he interrupted her quickly, saying—
“This can scarcely be the reason;—at least their feelings show nothing of the kind towards us. Sybella talks of you as a sister nearest to her heart. Sir Marmaduke never spoke of you, but with the warmest terms of affection, and if the gay Guardsman did not express himself on the subject, perhaps it was because he felt the more deeply.”
Kate's cheek grew deeper scarlet, and her breathing more hurried, but she made no reply.
“My explanation,” continued Herbert, more occupied with his own thoughts than attentive to his companion, “is this;—and, to be sure, it is a very sorry explanation which elucidates nothing;—that Hemsworth is somehow at the bottom of it all. Sybella told me what persuasions he employed to prevent her father returning to Glenflesk; and when every thing like argument failed, that he actually, under pretence of enlarging the house, rendered the existing part uninhabitable.”
“But what object could he have in this?” said Kate, who felt that Herbert was merely nourishing the old prejudices of his family against Hemsworth. “He is anxious for the peace and welfare of this country—he grieves for the poverty and privations of the people, and whether he be correct or not, deems the remedy, the residence amongst them of a cultivated and wealthy proprietary, with intelligence to perceive, and ability to redress their grievances.”
“Very true, Kate,” replied Herbert; “but don't you see that in these very requisites of a resident gentry, he does not point at the Travers family, whose ignorance of Ireland he often exposed when affecting to eulogise their knowledge. The qualities he recommends he believes to be his own.”
“No, Herbert, you wrong him there,” said she, warmly; “he told me himself the unceasing regret he suffered, that, in his humble sphere, all efforts for the people's good were ineffectual—that, wanting the influence which property confers, benefits from his hands became suspected, and measures of mere justice were regarded as acts of cruelty and oppression.”