said. "Few sportsmen
can resist the Castle Talbot duck-shooting."

"Do ask him," said Eileen, becoming animated. "Two's company, three's
none. Everything is lop-sided without a second man."

"I'll ask him, of course," Terry said. "But I don't suppose he'll
come. It is like a kid in the Lower School asking a prefect to tea.
He may come--for the grub. On the other hand he may give the kid a
kicking for his impudence."

After all, they had not to go as far as Inch. They met Stella
exercising her dogs about half a mile from her own gates. She would
like to come to tea if she might first take the dogs home and leave
word as to where she had gone.

To Lady O'Gara's mind she looked small and unhappy as soon as the flush
had faded which came when she saw them. She clung to Lady O'Gara, and
could not be detached from her. The dogs, surrounding her, made a
barrier between her and Terry, who, at first, kept as close to her as
he could, leaving Eileen to walk the other side of Lady O'Gara.

But Stella did not seem to have much to say to him. She was too
engrossed with the dogs and with his mother to spare him a word. The
eager light which had come to his eyes when he had first caught sight
of her faded. His candid face was overcast. She had been keeping him
at arms-length ever since he had come back.

His mother watched him with a comprehension which was half tender
amusement, half compassion. He was becoming a little sullen over
Stella's persistent disregard of him. She watched the set boyish
mouth, the pucker of his forehead--her baby. Terry had always had that
pucker for perplexity or disappointment. Why, he had had it when the
first down was on his baby head, as soft as a duckling's.

The road grew narrow. He began to lag behind, to veer towards Eileen.

"Is it worth while for us all to go on to Inch?" he asked in his
discontented young voice. "Supposing Eileen and I go on by the river,
while you and Stella take back the dogs! They wouldn't follow me or
I'd offer to go home with them. It must be nearly a mile to the house
from the gate."

"I've a better way than that," Lady O'Gara said on a sudden impulse.
She had taken Stella's cold little hand in hers, and it made a mute
appeal. She was sure Stella was unhappy, poor little motherless child.
The two poor children, fretting and worrying each other about nothing
at all! Her comprehending, merry, pitiful gaze went from one to the
other young fac