'I can hide nothing from you, though I have taken an oath to silence,'

said he, with an energy that seemed to defy repression. 'I will tell you everything, though it's little short of a perjury, only premising this much, that I know nothing from Walpole himself.'

With this much of preface, he went on to describe Walpole's visit to Kilgobbin as one of those adventurous exploits which young Englishmen fancy they have a sort of right to perform in the less civilised country. 'He imagined, I have no doubt,' said he, 'that he was studying the condition of Ireland, and investigating the land question, when he carried on a fierce flirtation with a pretty Irish girl.'

'And there was a flirtation?'

'Yes, but nothing more. Nothing really serious at any time. So far he behaved frankly and well, for even at the outset of the affair he owned to--a what shall I call it?--an entanglement was, I believe, his own word--an entanglement in England--'

'Did he not state more of this entanglement, with whom it was, or how, or where?'

'I should think not. At all events, they who told me knew nothing of these details. They only knew, as he said, that he was in a certain sense tied up, and that till Fate unbound him he was a prisoner.'

'Poor fellow, it _was_ hard.'

'So _he_ said, and so _they_ believed him. Not that I myself believe he was ever seriously in love with the Irish girl.'

'And why not?'

'I may be wrong in my reading of him; but my impression is that he regards marriage as one of those solemn events which should contribute to a man's worldly fortune. Now an Irish connection could scarcely be the road to this.'

'What an ungallant admission,' said she, with a smile. 'I hope Mr. Walpole is not of your mind.' After a pause she said, 'And how was it that in your intimacy he told you nothing of this?'

He shook his head in dissent.

'Not even of the "entanglement"?'

'Not even of that. He would speak freely enough of his "egregious blunder,"

as he called it, in quitting his career and coming to Ireland; that it was a gross mistake for any man to take up Irish politics as a line in life; that they were puzzles in the present and lead to nothing in the future, and, in fact, that he wished himself back again in Italy every day he lived.'

'Was there any "entanglement" there also?'

'I cannot say. On these he made me no confidences.'

'Coffee, my lady!' said the butler, entering at this moment. Nor was Atlee grieved at the interruption.

'I am enough of a Turk,' said she laughingly, 'to like that muddy, strong coffee they give you in the East, and where the very smallness of the cups suggests its strength. You, I know, are impatient for your cigarette, Mr.

Atlee, and I am about to liberate you.' While Atlee was muttering his a.s.surances of how much he prized her presence, she broke in, 'Besides, I promised my uncle a visit before tea-time, and as I shall not see you again, I will wish you now a pleasant journey and a safe return.'

'Wish me success in my expedition,' said he eagerly.

'Yes, I will wish that also. One word more. I am very short-sighted, as you may see, but you wear a ring of great beauty. May I look at it?'

'It is pretty, certainly. It was a present Walpole made me. I am not sure that there is not a story attached to it, though I don't know it.'

'Perhaps it may be linked with the "entanglement,'" said she, laughing softly.

'For aught I know, so it may. Do you admire it?'

'Immensely,' said she, as she held it to the light.

'You can add immensely to its value if you will,' said he diffidently.

'In what way?'

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'You wear a ring of great beauty--may I look at it?']

'By keeping it, Lady Maude,' said he; and for once his cheek coloured with the shame of his own boldness.

'May I purchase it with one of my own? Will you have this, or this?' said she hurriedly.

'Anything that once was yours,' said he, in a mere whisper.

'Good-bye, Mr. Atlee.'

And he was alone!

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

AT TEA-TIME

The family at Kilgobbin Castle were seated at tea when d.i.c.k Kearney's telegram arrived. It bore the address, 'Lord Kilgobbin,' and ran thus: 'Walpole wishes to speak with you, and will come down with me on Friday; his stay cannot be beyond one day.--RICHARD KEARNEY.'

'What can he want with me?' cried Kearney, as he tossed over the despatch to his daughter. 'If he wants to talk over the election, I could tell him per post that I think it a folly and an absurdity. Indeed, if he is not coming to propose for either my niece or my daughter, he might spare himself the journey.'

'Who is to say that such is not his intention, papa?' said Kate merrily.

'Old Catty had a dream about a piebald horse and a haystack on fire, and something about a creel of duck eggs, and I trust that every educated person knows what _they_ mean.'

'I do not,' cried Nina boldly.

'Marriage, my dear. One is marriage by special license, with a bishop or a dean to tie the knot; another is a runaway match. I forget what the eggs signify.'

'An unbroken engagement,' interposed Donogan gravely, 'so long as none of them are smashed.'

'On the whole, then, it is very promising tidings,' said Kate.

'It may be easy to be more promising than the election,' said the old man.

'I'm not flattered, uncle, to hear that I am easier to win than a seat in Parliament.'

'That does not imply you are not worth a great deal more,' said Kearney, with an air of gallantry. 'I know if I was a young fellow which I'd strive most for. Eh, Mr. Daniel? I see you agree with me.'

Donogan's face, slightly flushed before, became now crimson as he sipped his tea in confusion, unable to utter a word.

'And so,' resumed Kearney, 'he'll only give us a day to make up our minds!