o go," barked Kenny, pushing back his chair. "I've had his
car for months. Do you suppose I want him losing his way all night--"

He fumed off rebelliously, talking as he went.

Brian's eyes followed him through the doorway.

"Hum!" he said grimly. "'Richard is himself again!' You mustn't blame
him, Joan," he added. "He was always like that. He can't help it. I
mean, dear, tumbling in and out of love. I always knew the symptoms.
Falling in, he'd whistle softly and his eyes would shine. He'd be up
in the clouds and altogether gay and charming, his work would begin to
pall and he'd put it aside until he began to run down. I always knew
when he came to disillusion. His conscience would begin to bother him
about work. He'd be moody and discontented and a desperate flurry of
painting would follow until the next girl smiled."

He reached across the table and caught her hands.

"It is hard to believe it all," he said simply. "And Ireland for a
honeymoon!"

The look of shining content in Joan's eyes deepened.

"Oh, Brian," she said. "I shall love it, I know!"

Kenny climbed the stairway in a daze and packed his suit case.
Everywhere he felt the eyes of Adam Craig upon him--less and less
unkind. They stared at him from the windows by the orchard. They
stared over the creaking banister as he stumbled down the stairway with
his courage ebbing. They stared from the library where the porch light
glimmered through the windows. . . . Fall was in the wind to-night.
The old house creaked. Adam's spirit swept in always with a sighing
wind. Kenny shivered. A bleak place--the ridge--and haunted.

With a shock he found himself upon the porch. At the foot of the steps
Garry waited in the car, his gauntleted hands drumming nervously upon
the wheel. If for a minute stark, incredulous terror swept through
Kenny's veins, his laughing lips belied it. Then he kissed Joan
lightly on the cheek and went, whistling, down the steps with Brian.

"And you, Brian?" he said, halting on the lower step to light a
cigarette. "What shall I tell John?"

"Tell him all," said Brian. He talked hurriedly of his plans.

Kenny held out his hand.

"God speed, boy!" he said.

Garry--unsentimental Garry--blinked as the car shot down the lane. He
clashed his gears and shuddered.

Brian stared.

"Phew!" he whistled as Joan came down the steps. "Garry's driving like
a blacksmith."

They clung to each other in the dark and wa