“Good gracious me, my love!  I thought Lord Cashel had managed all that—­I thought that was all settled.  You know, he would keep those horrid horses, and all that kind of thing; and what more could you do than just let Lord Cashel settle it?”

“Yes, but aunt—­you see, I had engaged myself to Lord Ballindine, and I don’t think—­in fact—­oh, aunt!  I did not wish to break my word to Lord Ballindine, and I am very very sorry for what has been done,” and Fanny was again in tears.

“But, my dear Fanny,” said the countess, so far excited as to commence rising from her seat—­the attempt, however, was abandoned, when she felt the ill effects of the labour to which she was exposing herself—­“but, my dear Fanny—­what would you have?  It’s done, now, you know; and, really, it’s for the best.”

“Oh, but, dear aunt, I must get somebody to see him.  I’ve been thinking about it ever since he was here with my uncle.  I wouldn’t let him think that I broke it all off, merely because—­because of poor Harry’s money,” and Fanny sobbed away dreadfully.

“But you don’t want to marry him!” said the naive countess.

Now, Fanny did want to marry him, though she hardly liked saying so, even to Lady Cashel.

“You know, I promised him I would,” said she; “and what will he think of me?—­what must he think of me, to throw him off so cruelly, so harshly, after all that’s past?—­Oh, aunt!  I must see him again.”

“I know something of human nature,” replied the aunt, “and if you do, I tell you, it will end in your being engaged to him again.  You know it’s off now.  Come, my dear; don’t think so much about it:  I’m sure Lord Cashel wouldn’t do anything cruel or harsh.”

“Oh, I must see him again, whatever comes of it;” and then she paused for a considerable time, during which the bewildered old lady was thinking what she could do to relieve her sensitive niece.  “Dear, dear aunt, I don’t want to deceive you!” and Fanny, springing up, knelt at her aunt’s feet, and looked up into her face.  “I do love him—­I always loved him, and I cannot, cannot quarrel with him.”  And then she burst out crying vehemently, hiding her face in the countess’s lap.

Lady Cashel was quite overwhelmed.  Fanny was usually so much more collected than herself, that her present prostration, both of feeling and body, was dreadful to see.  Suppose she was to go into hysterics—­there they would be alone, and Lady Cashel felt that she had not strength to ring the bell.

“But, my dear Fanny! oh dear, oh dear, this is very dreadful!—­but, Fanny—­he’s gone away now.  Lift up your face, Fanny, for you frighten me.  Well, I’m sure I’ll do anything for you.  Perhaps he wouldn’t mind coming back again,—­he always was very good-natured.  I’m sure I always liked Lord Ballindine very much,—­only he would have all those horses.  But I’m sure, if you wish it, I should be very glad to see him marry you; only, you know, you must wait some time, because of poor Harry; and I’m sure I don’t know how you’ll manage with Lord Cashel.”