Love of Brothers

a new staff of servants under Clinch and Mrs. Clinch. There were things the new servants might have forgotten: and Mrs. Clinch was old and rheumatic now-not equal to much climbing o

n, all the trifling things which me

ains hung up. The old ones were riddled with holes. She hoped Aunt Grace-she went back to the familiar name-would not miss them, would be satisfied with the room, which looked so fresh with its clean white paper and the pink

the house. She had not heard any sounds of arrival,-but-t

two who had loved each other and parted, with cold resentment on

ays-how they should greet each other, what should be the first words to pass between the

ee," said Mrs. Comerfor

stead of staying t

no one

isreputable as I remember it. It was driven by old Johnny's son. I am sorry Johnny is dead.

gone: and there was Aunt Grace talking about Farrell's ca

yes suddenly fi

he said with soft tend

her. She forgot the dread she had had of the meeting, which had destroyed any happy anticipation. "Come and s

s. A look of gratification, of pleasure, came to her face. She allowed Lady

kies are! Many and many a time during those years I have wanted grey skies. I've been sick even for a who

e Aunt Grace talking like this. It encouraged Lady O'Gara, sitting on the floor at Mrs. Comerf

dly changed from the girl of twenty-five years ago. Of course

followed by Mrs. Clinch wit

kfast, ma'am," she said, and there was a radiance abou

cannot want breakfast." Mrs. Comerford smiled as she s

ch a beautiful young lady too. She'll make the house lively. The first thing she did was to fling her ar

ne spoils her, so I suppose there's no

h every one. They'll be won over by her: even old Tom Kane will give her the key of his garden, as he calls it,

merford had grown much softer. She was still a remarkable-looking woman, the wreck of stately beauty. In her black garments, which fell about her in flowing lines, she had the air of a priestess. Her age showed in her thinness, which was almost emaciation, and her face was wrinkled and heavily lined. Yet her smile was more ready than Lady

'Your Grace.' Italy has dried up my skin. It will hardly revive at my time of life. But I am happy: you cannot im

d adored her, with an adoration tinged with awe. She had always felt in those days that i

to see Stell

a good child to me, and you would have pleased me if you could. I know better now than to be angry with you for caring more for Shawn O'Gara than for my

adfully in those days. You

xpect you to marry Terence to please me when you liked Shawn O'Gara better. I ought to have

st sight." She blushed, with a startling effect of youth. "Terence and I were like brother and sister. It would not have

bitter anger because her son had been supplanted by his frien

uld not bring myself to do it, and-there were other reasons. It is very good to come back and

d the room, with a sigh as though

r me, see those old things on the chimney-piece! Those crockery dogs,-how fond Terence was of them

o lunch," Lady O'Gara said. "I want you to se

eft your letters unanswered, but I always read them. That

s, at least. There is not very much doing now. After a

m. And I want you

he door as though she

e here once or twice in old days. She has lived with us for a long time. T

use I thought he came for your sake. He married a f

r. Beautiful soft silver-gold hair and

acter

so slightly. "Oh, she

o animation; I know her kind. By the way, you have Patsy Kenny stil

he great-grandson of old Shot. I don't know what we should do without Pats

There was an awful day when we found her with the boarhound puppies at Prince Valetti's Villa in her arms, and the mother looking on well-pleased. She was a savage brute to

ike a Fre

should

. I thought she was th

sed to visi

s Irish," Mrs.

is like h

answer there came a knocking

" Mrs. Comerford said

h face looked in

ara whom my dearest Ma

e voice,-something of deliberate utterance, as t

ws strongly marked. She had a straight beautiful little nose, lips softly opening, a chin like that of the Irish poet's "Mary Donnelly," "round as a china cup." There was something softly grac

ella," Lady O'Gara said, fascinated

house, the beautiful grey country." She took Lady O'Gara's hand and

d and pleased by the girl's air of homage. "My husband's mother, who was an Italian, said that

e girl, "for I adore them. Even

our colouring, Mary; do

ford

haps-more

childhood. This girl touched some motherly chord in her which Eileen had never awakened. She wanted to stroke her dear cur