She was thinking how she would begin to say that for saying which there was so strong a necessity, and she could not take a part in small false badinage on a subject which was so near her heart.
"And what about that stupid mason at Clady ?" asked the countess, still making believe.
"Mr.Fitzgerald was there again to-day, mamma; and I think it will be all right now; but he did not say much about it." "Why not?
you were all so full of it yesterday." Clara, who had half turned round towards the light, now again turned herself towards the window.

This task must be done; but the doing of it was so disagreeable! How was she to tell her mother that she loved this man, seeing that so short a time since she had declared that she loved another?
"And what was he talking about, love ?" said the countess, ever so graciously.

"Or, perhaps, no questioning on the matter can be allowed.

May I ask questions, or may I not?
eh, Clara ?" and then the mother, walking up towards the window, put her fair white hands upon her daughter's two shoulders.
"Of course you may inquire," said Clara.
"Then I do inquire--immediately.

What has this _preux chevalier_ been saying to my Clara, that makes her stand thus solemn and silent, gazing out into the dark night ?" "Mamma!" "Well, love ?" "Herbert Fitzgerald has--has asked me to be his wife.