ver of vanity that grew to a burning in my veins
would never have started. Started, it was like a conflagration. It
drove Brian to sunsets. God knows what it didn't do. I thought only of
myself--always. That desire for adulation in a woman's eyes, that
curious persistent fever was, I'm sure, a sort of sex vanity. It has
nearly ruined many another man's life. It nearly ruined mine. Always
when I was drifting into new madness, I couldn't work. I dreamed. The
Isle of Delight, always receding! I sang and whistled. The King of
Youth! Only when I was drifting out again, could I bend myself to
concentration and sanity. And then another look in a girl's soft
eyes--and more vanity and self and delirium. But I'm tired. I want to
look ahead to--to quiet and steadiness and work."

Garry, with the husk still in his throat, wandered off to the window.

"Garry!"

Garry wheeled and found a wistful, boyish Kenny with his fingers in his
hair.

"I'm no longer a failure as a parent?"

"No!" said Garry with decision.

"And God knows I haven't been a failure as a lover. I'm prayin' I shan't
always be a failure as a painter. It's the one thing left. Somewhere in
Ireland, Garry, nine silent fairies blow beneath a caldron. They know
the secrets of the future. I'd like to be peepin'."

He was to know in time that the caldron held for him peace and big
achievement.

"I wish I could help!" said Garry.

"Garry, could you--would you drive me home to-night?"

"Anything!"

"You'll not be mindin'?"

"No. It's better."

"Come," said Kenny, his color high. "We'll be facin' it now."

They went in silence through the pines.

CHAPTER XLII

THE END OF KENNY'S SONG

A light flickered on the porch where Hannah hovered around the supper
table, puzzled and annoyed.

"I'm glad somebody's come at last," she exclaimed a trifle tartly.
"Every bug on the ridge has been staring at the supper table through
the screens. And I promised Mis' Owen to drive over there to-night
with Hughie."

"Where's Brian?"

"He went down to the village with Joan."

"And Don?"

"Don said he'd eat his supper when he came. It might be late."

Kenny, whistling a madcap hornpipe, glinted at the table with approval.

"Off with ye, now, Hannah, darlin'," he said. "I'll stare the bugs
down until they come."

"They ought to be here now." Hannah's eyes strained, frowning, toward
the lane.

"Ho, Brian!" Kenny called.

"Ho!" came