Unable to apply any more consolatory counsels, his invariable reply to Lady Eleanor was, “It was a point of duty; the boy could not have done otherwise; I have too often expressed my opinion to him about the _devoirs_ of a soldier to permit of his hesitating here. And as for our suit, Mr. Bicknell says the jury did not deliberate ten minutes on their verdict; whatever right we might have on our side, it was pretty clear we had no law. Poor Lionel is spared the pain of knowing this, at least.” He sighed heavily, and was silent. Lady Eleanor and Helen spoke not either; and except their long-drawn breathings nothing was heard in the room. Lady Eleanor was the first to speak. “Might not Lionel's evidence have given a very different coloring to our cause if he had been there?” “It is hard to say. I am not aware whether we failed upon a point of fact or law. Mr. Bicknell writes like a man who felt his words were costly matters, and that he should not put his client to unnecessary expense. He limits himself to the simple announcement of the result, and that the charge of the bench was very pointedly unfavorable. He says something about a motion for a new trial, and regrets Daly's having prevented his engaging Mr. O'Halloran, and refers us to the newspapers for detail.” “I never heard a question of this O'Halloran,” said Lady Eleanor, “nor of Mr. Daly's opposition to him before.” “Nor did I, either; though, in all likelihood, if I had, I should have been of Bagenal's mind myself. Employing such men has always appeared to me on a par with the barbarism of engaging the services of savage nations in a war against civilized ones; and the practice is defended by the very same arguments,--if they are not with you, they are against you.” “You are right, my dear father,” said Helen, while her countenance glowed with unusual animation; “leave such allies to the enemy if he will, no good cause shall be stained by the scalping-knife and the tomahawk.” “Quite right, my dearest child,” said he, fondly; “no defeat is so bad as such a victory.” “And where was Mr. Daly? He does not seem to have been at the trial?” “No; it would appear as if he were detained by some pressing necessity in Dublin. This letter is in his handwriting; let us see what he says.” Before the Knight could execute his intention, old Tate appeared at the door, and announced the name of Mr. Dempsey. “You must present our compliments,” said Darcy, hastily, “and say that a very particular engagement will prevent our having the pleasure of receiving his visit this evening.” “This is really intolerable,” said Lady Eleanor, who, never much disposed to look favorably on that gentleman, felt his present appearance anything but agreeable. “You hear what your master says,” said Helen to the old man, who, never having in his whole life received a similar order, felt proportionately astonished and confused. “Tell Mr. Dempsey we are very sorry; but--”