ered coldly.

"I like the name," I returned. "It is suggestive. It may mean
anything--or nothing."

"You will learn later that the Society means something; a good deal, in
fact."

This was said in the dry, unemotional tone which I afterwards found was
the only sign of displeasure Brande ever permitted himself to show. His
arrangements for going on shore at Queenstown had been made early in the
day, but he left me to look for his sister, of whom I had seen very
little on the voyage. The weather had been rough, and as she was not a
good sailor, I had only had a rare glimpse of a very dark and handsome
girl, whose society possessed for me a strange attraction, although we
were then almost strangers. Indeed, I regretted keenly, as the time of
our separation approached, having registered my luggage (consisting
largely of curios and mementoes of my travels, of which I was very
careful) for Liverpool. My own time was valueless, and it would have
been more agreeable to me to continue the journey with the Brandes, no
matter where they went.

There was a choppy sea on when we reached the entrance to the harbour,
so the _Majestic_ steamed in between the Carlisle and Camden forts, and
on to the man-of-war roads, where the tender met us. By this time,
Brande and his sister were ready to go on shore; but as there was a
heavy mail to be transhipped, we had still an hour at our disposal. For
some time we paced the deck, exchanging commonplaces on the voyage and
confidences as to our future plans. It was almost dark, but not dark
enough to prevent us from seeing those wonderfully green hills which
landlock the harbour. To me the verdant woods and hills were delightful
after the brown plains and interminable prairies on which I had spent
many months. As the lights of Queenstown began to speck the slowly
gathering gloom, Miss Brande asked me to point out Rostellan Castle. It
could not be seen from the vessel, but the familiar legend was easily
recalled, and this led us to talk about Irish tradition with its weird
romance and never failing pathos. This interested her. Freed now from
the lassitude of sea-sickness, the girl became more fascinating to me
every moment. Everything she said was worth listening to, apart from the
charming manner in which it was said.

To declare that she was an extremely pretty girl would not convey the
strange, almost unearthly, beauty of her face--as intellectual as her
brother's--and of the charm of her