imself on
the fact that he had secured a son-in-law with a genuine passion for
the land that meant so much to him.

During all this time Gabrielle remained the same indefinitely tragic
figure. There was nothing physically repulsive in Considine, but even
if there had been, I do not suppose that she would have felt it
acutely. She had become passive. The abruptness of the first tragedy
had numbed her so completely that nothing less than another emotional
catastrophe could awaken her to consciousness.

In this expectant hallucinated state she passed through the early
months of her married life, faithfully performing her domestic duties,
sad, yet almost complacent in her sadness. Autumn swept over the
countryside. Mists rising from the Corrib at dawn lapped the feet of
the hills on which Clonderriff stood, mingling, at last, with the
melancholy vapour of white fog rolling in from sea. Leaves began to
fall in the parsonage garden, and the lawn was frosted at daybreak with
cold dew. The hint of chilliness in the air only stimulated Considine
to fresh energies, sending him out on long tramps with his gun. He
seemed to think it strange that Gabrielle, in her new state, should
hate the sight, and above all, the sound of firearms. He tried to joke
her out of it--he would never treat her as anything but a child--but to
her it was not a subject on which jokes could be made.

Biddy was a frequent and puzzled visitor at Clonderriff, puzzled, and a
little disappointed because her physiological prophecies did not seem
to be approaching fulfilment. By the time that Gabrielle had been
married a couple of months it became questionable whether there had
been any social necessity for the hurried ceremony; but though she had
her own doubts on the subject, Biddy was far too cunning to give this
away to her own discredit, and when Jocelyn or Considine consulted her
as to how these matters were proceeding, she armed herself with
inscrutable feminine mystery trusting to luck and assuring them it was
only a question of time. After all, probabilities were on her side,
and no doubt it came as a great relief to her when, in due course, the
doctor from Galway confirmed her diagnosis. With this vindication of
her judgment she became more and more attentive to Gabrielle, walking
over two or three times a week to Clonderriff and instructing her in
the traditional duties of motherhood as they are taught in the west.

All through the days