been prettier than the boy's bold advance,
the girl's withdrawal. They were too engrossed in each other, or
appeared to be, to notice his face in the doorway.

With a deep sigh, as of relief, he turned away. Then he caught sight
of the pink blob by the fireplace in the hall. Stella was down on her
knees feeding the dying fire with sods of turf. Her rose geranium
frock made what the children call a "cheese" about her. Her golden
brown head was charming against the audacious colour of her frock. The
dogs had taken advantage of her position to press about her. Now and
again she pushed off Cupid, who was the bold one, with the sod of turf
in her hand.

Sir Shawn felt particularly kind towards the girl.

"Hullo, Stella," he said: "I didn't know you had come."

"Some little time ago," she replied. "Grannie is with Lady O'Gara. Do
you mind my making up the fire?"

"Not a bit." His heart was light within him, almost to the extent of
taking Stella into his confidence. Discreet little thing! She, too,
had surprised the pretty picture in the drawing-room, and had
withdrawn, leaving the lovers to themselves.

"The lovers." He said the words over to himself, mouthing them as
though they were sweet. He had been unnecessarily alarmed. Things
were arranging themselves beautifully. He believed in early marriages.
The happiness of the youngsters would keep him young. He would get
away from his shadows. After a while Terry must come home and settle
down somewhere near. A few years of soldiering in these piping times
of peace were as much as the boy need do.

So his mind ran on into the happy future while he sat on the arm of one
of the red-leather chairs and beamed at Stella, who had always been
rather alarmed of Sir Shawn, and came out now as prettily as a flower
in the warm sun.

He looked at his watch. It was a quarter to eight. Dinner-time. A
pity the youngsters had not more time to settle their pretty affair.
He began to think of what gift he would give Eileen. His mother's
pearl cross--large pearls set _en cabochon_. Mary had so many things.
She would not grudge that to Terry's wife.

There were Mary and Grace Comerford coming down the staircase, talking
as though they did not see each other constantly. How well Mary looked
in the brown silk! It brought out the dear shades of red in her hair
and eyes.

He went over and joined the two ladies.

"Only _just_ in time!" he said, in rather a loud v