So spake my lady, in her most majestic way, and Curran, as he smiled at the kindly, narrow-minded woman, thought she looked more like Queen Bess than ever. There was no help to be expected from this quarter for the poor fellows; Doreen's stern face convinced him of that much. He must even buckle on his armour and have at Lord Clare in person, when the first opportunity offered. Terence's brow darkened as his chief talked of the arrests, and of the outrage at Tone's offices. If the chancellor was personally responsible for the ill-judged performance, then was he distinctly in the wrong. Might there be some truth in the pile of accusations which were being heaped upon the minister in power? My lady's high-flown babble jarred on his nerves. Is there anything more painful than hearing one you love and respect talking nonsense? But no! It was not possible that the chancellor should be acting as he did without good reason. We are all apt to jump at conclusions and to blame people, without seeking first for motives which may not happen to lie upon the surface. Terence tried to shake off his suspicions, and succeeded to a certain extent, moved thereto, possibly, by feeling Doreen's scrutiny fixed on him. When she appeared on the terrace in her strange costume, she found the brothers at high words, and reproved them straightway. Shane had used bad language in an undertone; Terence had blushed, and hung his head. There was thunder in the air, which the damsel had striven to dissipate. She was looking anxiously on now, fearful of a collision of antagonistic elements, and bit her lips and stamped her little foot as Shane turned crossly to the visitor. 'Is it true, Curran,' he asked, with dyspeptic peevishness, 'that my brother was with those rascals? I've asked him more than once, but it seems he's afraid to confess.' 'Afraid!' Terence cried, as white as ashes; then, catching his cousin's eye, he went back, with set teeth, to his fly-making. 'I ought to have said _ashamed_,' apologised his languid lordship. 'I presume that, being a Crosbie, you are capable of feeling shame? Or not? You are so queer, I think you were changed at birth.' 'To please _me_, be quiet,' implored Miss Wolfe, with an earnestness which charmed my lady. 'You two are perpetually squabbling!'