sy?" asked the other quizzically.

"I don't like the way the old fella watches that child he calls his
wife. I don't like the young fella bein' the cause of the old man's
watchin'."

"What has happened? What has he done?" asked the Young Doctor a little
anxiously.

"Divils me own, it isn't what he's done; it's his bein' here. It's his
bein' what he is. It doesn't need doin' to bring wild youth together.
Look at her, y'r anner! A week ago she was like wan that 'd be called to
the Land of Canaan anny minnit. Wasn't you here tendin' her, as if she
was steppin' intil her grave, an' look at her now! She's like a rose in
the garden, like a lark's lilt in the air. What has done it? The young
man's done it. You'll be tellin' the ould fella it's the tonic you've
guv her. Tonic! How long d'ye think he'll belave it?'

"But she never sees Mr. Guise, does she, Patsy? Isn't his mother always
with him? Hasn't Mazarine forbidden his wife to enter the room?"

Kernaghan threw out his hands. "An' you're the man they say's the
cleverest steppin' between Winnipeg and the Mountains--an'--an'--you
talk to me like that! Is the ould fella always in the house? Is he
always upstairs? I ask you now. I'll tell you this, y'r anner--"

The Young Doctor interrupted him. "Don't you suppose that there's
somebody always watching, Patsy--the half-breed, the Chinaman?"

Kernaghan snapped a finger. "Aw, must I be y'r schoolmaster in the days
of your dotage! Of course the ould fella has someone to watch, an' I
dunno which it is--the Chinaman or the half-breed wumman. But I'll tell
you this: they'll take his pay and lie to him about whatever's goin' on
inside the house. That girl has them both in the palms of her hands. Let
him set what spies he will, she'll do what she wants, if the young man
lets her."

"His mother--" interjected the Young Doctor. "Her of the plumage--her!
Shure, she's not livin' in this wurruld. She's only visitin' it. She's
got no responsibility. If iver there was a child of a fairy tale, that
wumman's the child. I belave she'd think her son was doin' right if he
tied the ould fella up to a tree an' stuck him as full of Ingin arrows
as a pin-cushion, an' rode off with the lovely little lady in beyant
there. That's my mind about her. It isn't on her you can rely. If ye
want the truth, y'r anner, them two young people have had words together
and plenty of them, whether it's across the hall--her room from his;
or in his room; or thr