n her own heart even while she was
expected to marry Terence Comerford.

"Why do you talk of Terence now?" he asked.

"I have had a letter from Aunt Grace after all these years." She held
the letter towards him.

"She has forgiven you?" he asked, making no movement to take the letter.

"She is coming back to Inch. She writes that Stella, her adopted
daughter, is growing up. She has forgiven us. She is pleased that we
named our son after poor Terence. You remember you were rather opposed
to it, Shawn."

"I did not wish to be reminded of the loss of my friend at every
moment," he said. "The tragedy was too new."

Still he showed no indication of taking the letter from her hand.

"Read it to me," he said, in his weary voice. "I wonder how Stella
will like Inch after Italy. There is so much rain and cloud. One has
to be born to it to like it."

"When I was in Italy I simply longed for a day of Irish rain," Mary
O'Gara said: "it is good for us. We need it. We grow parched in the
dry climates."

"It has held the secret of perpetual youth and beauty for you, Mary,"
her husband said, looking at her with loving admiration.

She laughed and blushed. She was not beyond blushing at a compliment
even from her husband.

"We must make things as gay for the child as possible," she said. Then
she added:

"I wonder if Aunt Grace realizes that Terry is now a young man. He
seems _epris_ with Eileen, so I suppose he will not fall in love with
Stella?"

Sir Shawn looked startled.

"I hope not," he said. "Eileen seems to have him very securely in her
chains."

Lady O'Gara frowned ever so slightly. "I wish our children did not
grow away from us so soon," she said. "Terry might have continued a
little longer being in love only with his mother."

Sir Shawn lifted his eyebrows in a manner which accentuated his foreign
look.

"Jealous, Mary?" he asked.

"Not of Eileen. She allures him, but, I come first."

"You would always have your place. You are of the women who are adored
by their sons. You would not care for Eileen for a daughter-in-law,
though she has been almost your adopted daughter these ten years back?"

"She would not suit Terry."

"She is very fond of you."

"Yes, I think she is fond of me." Her voice was cold.

"I hardly know you, Mary, in this mood towards Eileen. You are usually
so sweetly reasonable."

"It is the privilege of a woman to be unreasonable sometimes."

The sunshi