with so much of womanly delicacy and refinement--the wish to please, so associated with a seeming forgetfulness of self, that every act and every gesture teemed with a charm of interest, for which there is no word, save “fascination;” even that slightly foreign accent, of which we have already spoken, served to individualize all she said, and left it graven on the heart long after the words were spoken. Frederic Travers watched with eager delight the effect these gifts were producing upon his sister. He saw the pleasure with which Sybella listened; he recognised, even already, the symptoms of that conquest by which mind subdues mind, and was overjoyed as he looked. To Sir Marmaduke's gracefully-expressed hope, that this visit should form the prelude to their nearer intimacy, the O'Donoghue, with a touch of sadness in his voice, replied--that he himself was an invalid, whose steps never wandered beyond the precincts of his home; but his brother-in-law, and his niece, and the boys--they would all, he was certain, avail themselves of such a neighbourhood. Sir Archibald bowed low, and somewhat stiffly perhaps, in accordance with a pledge thus given without his concurrence; but Herbert's bright eyes grew brighter, and his cheek flushed with delight at the bare anticipation of the thought. “And you, Miss O'Donoghue,” said Sir Marmaduke, turning towards Kate. “Our humble library at the lodge, is perfectly at your service, the only condition we ask is, that you come and choose from it in person.” “That promise is already most kindly made, father,” interrupted Sybella, whose pleased look showed how she had been captivated by her new friend. While their smiles and gracious words went round, the door was suddenly opened by Kerry O'Leary, who, forgetful of the visitors, in _his_ eager anxiety as the bearer of news, cried out-- [Illustration: 221] “There's a shindy, master dear! Such a row! May I never die in sin, if ever I seen the equal of it!” “What does he mean?--is the fellow mad?” cried the O'Donoghue, angrily, while Sir Archy, bending on him a most ominous frown, muttered-- “Have ye lost a' decency tegether. Ye daft loon, what ails ye?” “I ax your pardon, and the qualities pardon,” said Kerry, with an expression of abject misery for his unceremonious 'entrée.' “But, if you seen it, sorra bit but you'd forgive me.” “There has been good fun somewhere, I'm certain,” cried out Frederick Travers, whose curiosity to learn Kerry's intelligence could no longer be repressed. “What is it, then, Kerry?” said the O'Donoghue. “Let us hear it all.”