ons had been criticised. "One cannot be
kind to a girl like Sylvia Jackson."

"And why not kind?" asked Molly.

"I admire and respect--in fact, I almost reverence--her. She is so"--he
paused for a suitable word--"so ethereal. She is more like a spirit than
a piece of common human nature."

Molly Healy was with great difficulty attempting to restrain a giggle.
She recognised that to give her amusement full play would be to
grievously annoy him. For this reason she turned to look out of the
window, thrusting her handkerchief into her mouth the while.

"Does she play?" asked Kathleen.

"She plays and sings divinely. She does everything well. To dance with
her--is----."

He ended abruptly, not being capable of giving full expression to his
sensations when dancing with Sylvia Jackson.

"Denis Quirk!" cried Molly Healy, and climbed through the window. It
was a relief to her to give her mirth full vent.

"Ethereal! Poor Desmond! I wonder will he recover?" she laughed.

"You will not be rude to him?" Kathleen asked her brother anxiously.

He laughed unrestrainedly. All resentment against Denis Quirk was long
forgotten, for his anger was short-lived.

"I regard him as a benefactor. He has released me from the thraldom of
Grey Town and introduced me to the larger life," he answered.

"Whatever you do, don't speak to him of Sylvia, or I shall laugh," cried
Molly on meeting Denis Quirk.

"You are speaking Dutch puzzles, Miss Molly. Who and what are he and
Sylvia?" he answered.

"Desmond O'Connor is him, and Sylvia a spirit, just a woman that's
ethereal and a spirit. I am thinking poor Desmond is love sick."

Desmond followed Molly through the window, and came with outstretched
hand to meet his former chief. Kathleen O'Connor, watching from the
window, admired her brother's magnanimity. She would herself have unbent
to Denis long ago had it not been for Gerard's influence, and for the
dread lest her brother should be lost in the darkness of the great city
life.

Denis took the proffered hand and wrung it cordially. One glance at the
open face convinced him that his plan had proved successful; the drink
fiend had been exorcised.

"And how is Melbourne treating you?" he asked.

"Better than I deserve. I have found good work and good friends,"
replied Desmond.

"I knew you would come out all right, lad," said Denis, kindly. "What is
your work--papers or politics?"

"Nothing so grand; just advertising."

"The