ieve he's gu

e spoke, she thrust her head forward with the vigour of a passionate counsel. She

r mother, horror-stricken, gazing at a

en handed the clipping to her. Fortunately it contained no statement save the bare facts connected with the killing of Erris Boyne

s Boyne. He said that he and Boyne had quarrelled, but had become reconciled again, and that the drink was a pledge of their understanding. From the time he had taken the drink until he waked in the

for Sheila. She had even looked forward to marriage, and she wished for Sheila no better fate, because ne

and their friendship must be severed for ever. Her daughter did not know that Erris Boyne was her father,

he knew that Noreen was beautiful, but that he had married far beneath him socially. She had

and it had deepened her bitterness against him. When she had learned that Erris Boyne was no more faithful to h

look in her eyes always, but with a cheerful smile. She was not poor, but well-to-do, and it was no

added dignity to a head beautifully balanced, finely moulded, and, in the language of the day, most genteelly hung.

wledge of the tragedy that had come to Dyck Calhoun troubled her as she had not be

said Sheila with a determined a

my d

irl had resources which would make her a governing influence in whatever sphere of life she should be set. Quietly, Sheila was taking control of their movements, and indeed of her

r had a feeling that now, perhaps, the time had come when they two must have a struggle for mastery. There was every reason why they

d never seen her father's picture, and her mother had given her the impression that their last days together

met Dyck Calhoun. Her life at that moment had been free from troublesome emotions; but si

of a boy, strong and pleasant of face, with a haunting beauty in the eyes, a majesty

d worth, and irresponsible because he had been given no responsibility. He was a country

in, mother. We could help hi

hook her hea

es, I can't afford to visit Dublin now. It's an expensive jour

almost of scorn, came

o be, and if I knew that friends of mine were standing off because o

r daughter's hand.

nd I've never seen him but twice except in the distance; but I would do anythi

re, twist our thumb

e to him, I'd spend it-indeed I would; but since it can't be of any use, we must stay in our own home. Of one thing I'm sure-if Dyck Calhoun killed Erris Boyne, Boyne deserved it. Of one thi

est, dearest!" she said. "I believe you do care for hi

be so, b

her mother's neck and drew

er of hoofs, and presently they saw

t messenger, moth

ring a packet to Mrs. Llyn-a letter from her broth

s against England in the war, and become a man of importance in the schemes of the new republican government. Only occ

which Bryan Llyn had done business, with instructions that it should be forwarded to his sister. It had reached the hands of a government official, who was a brother of a memb

u have no doubt seen

those who know the

here are many who do

hem. Nevertheless, it

rong against him. He

you will be con

her, though the girl could not know the cause. Presently, however, Mrs.

dear?" Sheila aske

he leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, with the letter-whi

all is! Your Uncle Bryan is immensely rich. He has

able to get

it, mother?" as

esitated; then she put the

s much as for me-indeed, more for you than for

ST SI

ce I wrote to you, and

t been eleven days in

and Sheila were here

ut the age you were wh

st beautiful and charm

t picture I have of y

age-sad, bad, unhappy

arms my heart in wint

mm

orth nor South, but fa

s summer, but winter o

bitingly fresh, happ

look out of the windo

s, with hundreds upon

s they sing, faint ec

folk do sing, because

our troubles here.

ontrol hundreds of sl

work without creaks i

f next to nothing. I

of two thousand pound

a million now. I've

debt. What it'll be w

shan't be here to see.

s one of the reasons

shed to write and say

k, because I wanted yo

n before

want you and Sheila

, to take control of m

e about me as the

, mine was unsuccessfu

arried did not unders

me no children. We

s pain and joy in one

or bare feet. Yet when

ible pangs of regret,

in vain. I did my bes

ver did. I used at fir

I waked up again, an

tting pleasure out o

y in perfecting

ave called Moira, is

ase, you will want to

onial mansion, with it

hard-wood floors pol

d chintz, and the smel

want to see it all, a

e

re, so it's not like I

flowers are marvellous

they sing in Ireland,

rue, the only things

e you, and Sheila, wh

rises until he become

ishing i

k have sung in my hea

e, because I need you.

Ireland a thousand p

here-you and Sheila-

prevent your coming.

east, and west-the lan

sell all things that

Ireland here. Whoeve

hills and dells, the

mists of rain, the wil

ticoats, and their be

thed the air of Irelan

the ancient harp of I

ul, and abiding, yet

, and then I hear comi

Irish melody, the so

d I know then that Ir

s a memory, because i

s in eve

eak of what I know!

me, and I'm never goi

ere, colleen, come to

s letter, that you're

the cords binding m

'll soon crack, but,

ore you c

ou and Sheila I stret

s has worked for is yo

y

oving

YA

r, so her mother took the letter and read the rest of it aloud. When she had finishe

when shal

ned eyes She

t go to Dublin

Sheila, but it will be on ou

ht her moth

ter a moment of hesita

calls-perhaps; some one far away who loves you, and needs us, calls

ginia,

opped, and her eye