Clara smiled.  ‘I suppose I must bear it,’ she said.

’For shame, Clara!  With Aunt Kitty, who would make a palace of a dungeon, in the glorious glow of such a sunset, turning each cloud to red and purple radiance by the very force of love and faith, who could regret the being beside her?  My own dear and precious aunt, to see her so happy, with bliss and peace so undisturbed, so far above these toys, and these distresses, gives me a sort of fear—­’

‘Oh, don’t, Louis—­’

They were interrupted by approaching voices.  Clara hastily started up, as her uncle and Lady Britton appeared in the green alley.

‘Oh, must I go back to them all!  My head does ache!’

Louis gave her his arm, pursued the path in the opposite direction, and emerged at the lower end of the bowling-green, with the battlemented front of the house rising before them.  Presently, he met his father searching for him.  ‘Poor Clara has been overcome,’ he said, in explanation.  ‘The speechifying has been too much for her.’

It was the first time that Clara had appeared to the Earl in any light but that of an idle school-girl, and he said, kindly, ’It must have been very trying.  There should have been more preparation.  Your uncle would have shown better taste in sparing your grandmamma so obtrusive a reception, and I was much pained both for her and for you during some of the speeches.’

Sympathy from Lord Ormersfield nearly overthrew Clara again, and she involuntarily squeezed Louis’s arm.  He asked for his aunt, and was told, ’She is in the house, entertaining these people.  They do not know when to go away.  How could Oliver inflict such a party on her and such a style of people!’

‘I must go and help her,’ said Louis.

Clara was in no condition to appear, but Louis caused Mrs. Beckett to be summoned, and committed her to her care.  Her transport was one of the few pleasant things of that day.  ’Oh, Miss Clara!  Oh, my Lord!  Was there ever the like?  Isn’t Master Oliver the most blessed boy?  Missus in her own home again!  Eight men, and a French man-cook!  If ever I thought to see the day!  Her old room just as it was, only grander!  Oh, if poor Mr. James was but here!’

’Ay, Jane, and here’s Clara thinking herself ill about Mr. James.  Take her up and give her some tea, and make her fit to behave prettily by-and-by, that granny may not be vexed.’

Having seen her safe under Jane’s fondling care and infectious exultation, he betook himself to the drawing-room, relieved his aunt’s anxiety by a whisper, and won golden opinions from the whole company, before they were fairly got rid of; and Oliver begged to conduct his mother to her apartment.  ’Yes, my dear, I must go to poor little Clara.’

‘I’ve no fears for Clara,’ said Oliver, as he led her upstairs.  ’Knowing young fellow to wait for my announcement!  I can give her near double what Ponsonby could.  I’d not object—­old Dynevor blood—­’