CLARA DESMOND





It had been Clara Desmond's first ball, and on the following morning
she had much to occupy her thoughts. In the first place, had she
been pleased or had she not? Had she been most gratified or most
pained?

Girls when they ask themselves such questions seldom give themselves
fair answers. She had liked dancing with Owen Fitzgerald; oh, so
much! She had liked dancing with others too, though she had not
known them, and had hardly spoken to them. The mere act of dancing,
with the loud music in the room, and the gay dresses and bright
lights around her, had been delightful. But then it had pained
her--she knew not why, but it had pained her--when her mother told
her that people would make remarks about her. Had she done anything
improper on this her first entry into the world? Was her conduct to
be scanned, and judged, and condemned, while she was flattering
herself that no one had noticed her but him who was speaking to her?

Their breakfast was late, and the countess sat, as was her wont,
with her book beside her teacup, speaking a word every now and again
to her son.

"Owen will be over here to-day," said he. "We are going to have a
schooling match down on the Callows." Now in Ireland a schooling
match means the amusement of teaching your horses to jump.