fringes of flowers, and one solitary elmtree in the centre whose branches spread like a cedar of Lebanon. In the moonlight Patsy had the telling of a wonderful

ad tried to keep the situation free from melodrama. Yet Patsy had observed that, in spite of all efforts, Louise's eyes now and then filled with tears. Also, he saw that her senses seemed alert for something outside their little c

she was in trouble because of him, it seemed inevitable that Orlando should come. One thing was fixed in her mind: she

r. His arms and breast were thick with hair; the hair on his face grew almost up to the eyes; the fingers o

torment to her; for always in contrast there were the fresh clean-shaven cheeks and chin of a young Berser

down the staircase with the priceless porcelain; also the evening of the night spent on the prairie when, after the accident, her hand had been linked into his arm; also when he had

Joel Mazarine had tried to make her pray and ask God's forgiveness, and he had kissed her with the lips of hungry old age, she had suddenly sat up i

herself into tune with the commonplace intercourse of life. Not that her friends utterly failed to lure her into it. She might well have been the victim of hysterics, but she was only distrait

e, for a knock at the door, which did not come. Immediately after that, Patsy, happy in sitting down to table with "the quality"-for such they were to him-bec

y wasn't man and wife. Diarmid was a widower and Moira was a widow. Diarmid's boy was Filion and Moira's girl was Fiona, an' the troubles of the two'd make a book for ivry day of the week, an' two for Sunday. An' the way that St. Droid brought them two together Aw, come outside in the gardin where the moon's to the full, an' it's warm enough for anny man or woman that's got a warm heart, an' I'll tell you the story of Filion and Fiona. You'll not be forgettin' the names of them now, wi

rie around them like an endless waste of sea. There they placed themselves in a half circle around Patsy, who sat upon a little bench, with his back to the big spreading elm-tree, whi

r senses accurately divined? that Orlando was near, so sure had been the sensation that she had expected Orlando to enter

ings, which, though natural to one born with a soul that cared little for sordid things, was not common, except in Celtic circles where the un

course; that now was not the time to see her; that it might place her in a false position. Blameless though she was, she might be blamed by the world, if he and she, on the night that she fled from Joel Mazarine should meet, and, above all, meet alone-and what was the good of meetin

an Doyle's house, and he had

the desire was to let her see by his presence that he would be a tower of strength to her, no matter what happened.

t with Patsy Kernaghan, the Young Doctor, and Norah and Nolan Doyle. None saw him, and, as they seated themselves, he stepped noiselessly under the spreading bran

aid to himself; for he was going to make up out of his head this story of St. Droid and St. Droid's Day

l Mazarine. It was the behemoth transferred to Ireland, to the cromlechs and castles, to the causeways, the caves, and the stony hillsides; to the bogs and the quicksands and th

terial, selfish spirit and Queen Moira, in the sacrifice of their offspring, provoked the admiration

derful part of the story described how a strange dwarfed Little Man came out of the hills in the East, across the land, to the Western fastness of Black Brian, and there slew that evil man, because of an ancient feud-slew him in a situation of great

s, almost overcome. His long sigh of relief was joined to the sighs of the oth

or to him; and he added quizzically: "You tell it so w

, I expect," answere

ctor. "Now, how many times do you thin

no-I should think about two hundred

o into the house, he leaned and whispered in his ear: "Patsy,

dear!" said

he held out a hand to the Young Doctor. "Don't wait for me. I want to be alone a little while." Once more the

t. Good-night, my dear

good sle

her body was almost panting from the thrill of the legend which Patsy Kernaghan had told. As he had meant it to do, it gave her hope; although before h

nd of her own name. She did not start. It seemed to her part of

e came the word "Louise

e tree, and there bes

en she gave a little cry of pain and joy. As she ran towards him, wit

ispered passionately. For an instant they stood

depend on me. When you call, I will come. I must go now. For your sake I mu

ys told me,"

open his arms again. The lips which he had never kissed we

as gone. A few moments afterwards she heard the rumble of his wagon o

not far in front of him. Then he began to wonder why Louise had waited behind in the garden.