So well and ably did he sustain his part--so powerfully support each position by reference to some fact with which his ample memory supplied him--that Sir Marmaduke was eventually obliged to confess himself vanquished, though unconvinced--who ever was, when worsted?--and Frederick, chagrined at the favour Kate bestowed on the speaker, merely remarked as he concluded-- “Very conclusive and satisfactory, I have no doubt, it is; but, in my mind, all you have said goes to prove, that we English are a very inferior nation, and very unworthily placed in rule and governance over a people so much our superiors.” Kate's eyes flashed with an unwonted fire, and for an instant she felt almost unable to control the temptation to answer this taunt; but a quiet smile of half acquiescence on Hemsworth's face so adequately expressed what she wished but dared not say, that she merely returned the smile, and was silent. Had Hemsworth's whole object been on that evening to disabuse Kate O'Donoghue of her dislike to him--to obliterate all memory of the wrongs with which she had heard him charged towards her family--he could not have chosen a more successful path. There was the very degree of firmness and decision she admired in the manner he gave his opinions, and yet all the courtesy of one who would not be supposed capable of advancing them as incontrovertible or irrefutable. They were merely his sentiments--his mode of seeing and estimating particular events, of which another might judge differently. For all he advanced he was ready to show his reasons--they might be shallow, they might be inconclusive--but they were _his_, and, fortunately for his chance of winning her favour, they were _her_ opinions also. “So you think we shall have no outbreak, Hemsworth,” said Sir Marmaduke, as they sat at tea. “I scarcely go so far,” said he, gravely. “There are too many reasons for an opposite fear, to say so much, even if the Secretary of State did not assure us that the danger is over. The youth of Ireland will always be dangerous, when left without a career, or a road to their ambition; and from them, any peril that may now be apprehended will certainly come. Many young men of the best families of the country, whose estates are deeply incumbered--heavy mortgages and large dowries weighing them down--are ready to join in any bold attempt which promises a new order of things. They see themselves forgotten in the distribution of all patronage--excluded from every office---sometimes for reasons of religion--sometimes for family, even for a mere name's sake. They are ready to play a bold game, where losing is only quicker ruin, and to gain would be a glorious victory.” “But what could a few rash and desperate young men like these effect against a power so great and so consolidated as England?”