It was no time, no time as yet, to question her heart about this second lover--if lover he might be.

The countess was much too subtle in her way to frighten her child's heart back to its old passion.

That passion doubtless would die from want of food.

Let it be starved and die; and then this other new passion might spring up.
The Countess of Desmond had no idea that her daughter, with severe self-questioning, had taken her own heart to task about this former lover; had argued with herself that the man who could so sin, could live such a life, and so live in these fearful times, was unworthy of her love, and must be torn out of her heart, let the cost be what it might.

Of such high resolves on her daughter's part, nay, on the part of any young girl, Lady Desmond had no knowledge.
Clara Desmond had determined, slowly determined, to give up the man whom she had owned to love.