"Sociable! yes, one ought to be sociable certainly. But I am always
afraid of the sociability of young men without ladies. Do not be
angry with me if I venture as a friend to ask you not to be too
sociable."

"I know what you mean, Lady Desmond. People have been accusing us
of--of being rakes. Isn't that it?"

"Yes, Mr. Fitzgerald, that is it. But then I know that I have no
right to speak to you on such a--such a subject."

"Yes, yes; you have every right," said he, warmly; "more right than
any one else."

"Oh no; Sir Thomas, you know----"

"Well, yes, Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas is very ill, and so also is Lady
Fitzgerald; but I do not feel the same interest about them that I do
about you. And they are such humdrum, quiet-going people. As for
Herbert, I'm afraid he'll turn out a prig."

"Well, Mr. Fitzgerald, if you give me the right I shall use it." And
getting up from her chair, and coming to him where he stood, she
looked kindly into his face. It was a bonny, handsome face for a
woman to gaze on, and there was much kindness in hers as she smiled
on him. Nay, there was almost more than kindness, he thought, as he
caught her eye. It was like,--almost like the sweetness of motherly
love. "And I shall scold you," she continued. "People say that for
two or three nights running men have been playing cards at Hap House
till morning."