"Why, you've hardly tried your own mare at all," said the lad,
reproachfully.

"I'm going to hunt her on Saturday," said Owen; "and she'll have
quite enough to do then."

"Well, you're very slow to-day. You're done up with the dancing, I
think. And what do you mean to do now?"

"I'll go home with you, I think, and pay my respects to the
countess."

"By-the-by, I was to bring you in to lunch. She said she wanted to
see you. By jingo, I forgot all about it! But you've all become very
stupid among you, I know that." And so they rode back to Desmond
Court, entering the demesne by one of the straight, dull, level
roads which led up to the house.

But it did not suit the earl to ride on the road while the grass was
so near him; so they turned off with a curve across what was called
the park, thus prolonging their return by about double the necessary
distance.

As they were cantering on, Owen saw her of whom he was in quest
walking in the road which they had left. His best chance of seeing
her alone had been that of finding her outside the house. He knew
that the countess rarely or never walked with her daughter, and
that, as the governess was gone, Clara was driven to walk by
herself.