n the gate that led through a fine stone arch. She held the gate open
for Henry, and then they both passed up the flagged path into the house.

"Mother, mother!" Mary shouted, quickly entering the drawing-room,
"here's Quinny, and please can we have tea at once because the trawlers
are just coming home and we want to see them being beached and ... oh, I
say, my hands are messy, aren't they. Still, it doesn't matter! I can
wash them afterwards."

"My dear!" said Mrs. Graham reproachfully, and then she turned to greet
Henry who had become awkward again. "How do you do, Mr. Quinn," she
said, holding her hand out to him.

Henry flushed deeply. It was the first time any one had ever called him
Mister, and he was very glad that Ninian was not present to hear. He was
quite well, he said. No, he was not a bit tired. Yes, he would rather
like to go to his room.... A maid had followed him into the room, and
Mrs. Graham asked her to show Mr. Quinn to his room, and, flushing
deeper still, he turned to go with her. As he left the room, he heard
Mary saying to Mrs. Graham, "Oh, mother, you mustn't call him _Mr._
Quinn. He blushed frightfully when you said that. His name is 'Quinny,'
or you can call him 'Henry' if you like!"

"I think I'll call him 'Henry,' my dear!" said Mrs. Graham.

5

It seemed to Henry that Mrs. Graham was the most beautiful woman in the
world, and he had a great longing that she would draw him to her, as she
drew Ninian, and put her arms about him and kiss him. Sometimes he had
faint memories of the way in which poor Bridget Fallon had hugged him,
and how she had cried over him once when she told him that his soul
would be damned forever because he was a "black Protestant." ... He
remembered that episode more vividly than any other because he had
howled with fear when she narrated the pains and torments of hell to
him. There had been a Mission at the chapel the previous week, and a
preaching friar had frightened the wits out of her with his description
of "the bad place." He had told the congregation of scared servants and
frightened labourers that they would be laid on red-hot bars in hell and
that the devil would send demons to nip their flesh with burning
pincers.... Henry could not be comforted until she had promised to
rescue him from the Evil One, and when she bade him wear the scapular,
he hurriedly hung it round his neck as if he were afraid that before he
could get it on, the Devil would have hi