“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Helen, who heard the last few words of her mother's speech, “I am as violent a partisan as Mr. Daly could ask for; indeed, I am not certain if all my doctrines are not of his own teaching; I fear the Premier, distrust the Cabinet, and put no faith in the Secretary for Ireland; is not that the first article of our creed?--nay, nay, fear was no part of your instruction.” “And yet I have fears, my dear Helen, and very great fears just now,” said Daly in a low whisper, only audible by herself, and she turned her full and beaming eyes upon him for an explanation. As if anxious to escape the interrogatory, Daly arose hastily. “I must crave your indulgence for an abrupt leave-taking, Lady Eleanor,” said he, approaching, as he kissed the hand held out to him; “I shall be able to tell the Knight that I left you both well, and under safe protection. Captain Forester, adieu; you need no admonition of mine respecting your charge;” and, with a low and courtly salute, he departed. “Rely upon it, Captain Forester, he's bent on mischief now. I never saw him particularly mild and quiet in his manner that it was not the prelude to some desperate ebullition,” said Lady Eleanor. “He is the very strangest of all mortals.” “Say, the most single-minded and straightforward,” interposed Helen, “and I 'll agree with you.” “When men of strong minds and ambitious views are curbed and held in within the petty sphere of a small social circle, they are, to my thinking, intolerable. It is making a drawing-room pet of a tiger; every step he takes upsets a vase or smashes a jar. You smile at my simile.” “I 'm sure it's a most happy one,” said Forester, continuing. “I enter a dissent,” cried Helen, playfully. “He's a tiger, if you will, with his foes, but in all the relations of private life, gentleness itself; for my part, I can imagine no more pleasing contrast to the modern code of manners than Mr. Bagenal Daly.” “There, Captain Forester, if you would win Miss Darcy's favor, you have now the model for your imitation.” Forester's face flushed, and he appeared overwhelmed with confusion, while Helen went on with her embroidery, tranquil as before. “I believe,” resumed Lady Eleanor,--“I believe, after all, I am unjust to him; but much may be forgiven me for being so; he has made my son a wild, thoughtless boy, and my daughter--” “No indiscretions, Mamma,” cried Helen, holding up her hand. “Well, he has made my daughter _telle que vous la voyez_.” Forester was too well bred to venture on a word of flattery or compliment, but his glowing color and sparkling eyes spoke his admiration. Lady Eleanor's quick glance remarked this; and, as if the thought had never occurred before, she seemed amazed, either at the fact or at her own previous inattention. “Let us finish that second volume you were reading, Captain Forester,” said she, glad to cut short the discussion. And, without a word, he took the book and began to read.