dy to tell him what change had come over the mind of this
somewhat pedantic young woman. And he was told that Ellen had abandoned
her studies and professors for politics and politicians, and that these
were a great trial to her father, into whose house no Nationalist
member of Parliament had ever put his foot before. "Now the very men
that Mr. Cronin used to speak of as men who were throwing stones at the
police three years ago are dining with him to-day." And worse than her
political opinions, according to Mr. Cronin, was her resolution to
speak the language of her own country. "When he had heard her talking
it to a boy she had up from the country to teach her, Mr. Cronin stuck
both his hands into his stubbly hair and rushed out of the house like a
wild man."

It was pleasant to listen to the landlady's babble about the Cronins,
for he was going to spend the evening with them; he had been introduced
to her father, a tall, thin, taciturn man, who had somewhat gruffly,
but not unkindly, asked him to come to spend the evening with them,
saying that some friends were coming in, and there would be some music.

Ned's life had been lived in newspaper offices, in theatres, circuses,
and camps. He knew very little of society--nothing at all of European
society--and was curious to see what an Irish country-house was like.
The Cronins lived in a dim, red brick, eighteenth-century house. It
stood in the middle of a large park, and the park was surrounded by old
grey walls and Ned liked to lean on these walls, for in places they had
crumbled, and admire the bracken in the hollows and the wind-blown
hawthorn-trees growing on the other side of the long, winding drive. He
had long wished to walk in the park and now he was there. The hawthorns
were in bloom and the cuckoo was calling. The sky was dark overhead,
but there was light above the trees, and long herds of cattle wandered
and life seemed to Ned extraordinarily lovely and desirable at that
moment. "I wonder what her dreams are? Winter and summer she looks at
these mysterious hollows and these abundant hawthorn groves."

The young lady had been pointed out to him as she went by, and he was
impatient to be introduced to Ellen, but she was talking to some
friends near the window, and she did not see him. He liked her white
dress, there were pearls round her neck, and her red hair was pinned up
with a tortoise-shell comb. She and her friends were looking over a
photograph album,