have it, and you decline; he make me present of it in very much of kindness."
"There must have been some mistake," said Lady Anne, inwardly relieved; "in the overwhelming distress I was then in, Count, I might, like Hotspur, say 'I would or would not, when they made me mad,' with distracting questions. You who knew dear Granard can surely conceive what the agony of parting with him and with his estate also must have been. Think of me turned out of house and home, with five helpless girls, unportioned, and the greater part uneducated: with boys a mother has hope of relief; but with girls—five girls!"
Lady Anne's handkerchief was at her eyes; the Count took her left hand, and, gently pressing it, exclaimed:—
"I was grief and vex, and I have speak my speech; never more will I invoke your sorrow. I did know Granard, and love him as my best friend on earth; never had he successor in my heart—but Glentworth—forgive me; take your tea, dear lady, from my hand."
"Presently, dear Count," said Lady Anne, rising, and slowly pacing the room; the eyes of Riccardini followed.
"She gets better in a strange way," said he, "for she is much thinner than she was when I left London."
"Mamma is going to write a book," said Georgians, anxious to set all at ease, and well aware that the
