No; it may at any rate be said of Owen Fitzgerald, that he was not the man to make up to a widowed countess for the sake of the reflected glitter which might fall on him from her coronet.
But the Countess of Desmond was not the only lady at Desmond Court.

I have before said that she had a daughter, the Lady Clara, the heroine of this coming story; and it may be now right that I should attempt some short description of her; her virtues and faults, her merits and defects.

It shall be very short; for let an author describe as he will, he cannot by such course paint the characters of his personages on the minds of his readers.

It is by gradual, earnest efforts that this must be done--if it be done.

Ten, nay, twenty pages of the finest descriptive writing that ever fell from the pen of a novelist will not do it.
Clara Desmond, when young Fitzgerald first saw her, had hardly attained that incipient stage of womanhood which justifies a mother in taking her out into the gaieties of the world.