Perhaps the countess from the corner of her eye may have observed some portion of her daughter's blushes; but if so, she said nothing, attributing them to Clara's natural bashfulness in her present position.

"She will get over it soon," the countess may probably have said to herself.
Clara was indecisive, disturbed in her mind, and wretched.

Owen had sent her other letters; but they had been brought to her surreptitiously, had been tendered to her in secret, and had always been returned by her unopened.

She had not told her mother of these; at least, not purposely or at the moment: but she had been at no trouble to conceal the facts; and when the countess had once asked, she freely told her what had happened with an absence of any confusion which had quite put Lady Desmond at her ease.

But this letter was brought to her in the most open manner, and an answer to it openly demanded.
She turned it round slowly in her hand, and then looking up, said, "Mamma, this is from Owen Fitzgerald; what had I better do with it ?" "From Owen Fitzgerald! Are you sure ?" "Yes, mamma." And then the countess had also to consider what steps under such circumstances had better be taken.