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 tea-cup, 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.
"Will he ?" said Lady Desmond, looking up from her book for a moment.
"Mind you bring him in to lunch; I want to speak to him." "He doesn't care much about lunch, I fancy," said he; "and, maybe, we shall be half way to Millstreet by that time." "Never mind, but do as I tell you.

You expect everybody to be as wild and wayward as yourself." And the countess smiled on her son in a manner which showed that she was proud even of his wildness and his waywardness.
Clara had felt that she blushed when she heard that Mr.Fitzgerald was to be there that morning.

She felt that her own manner became constrained, and was afraid that her mother should look at her.

Owen had said nothing to her about love; and she, child as she was, had thought nothing about love.