ength, a member here and there
from the doubtful councillors, and public approbation abroad.

But at home in "Layton" he was not happy, for he recognised relentless
hostility on the part of Kathleen O'Connor, and he realised that John
Gerard was too intimate with the girl. It was not for him to remonstrate
with her. He had no right to speak, no reasons to advance against
Gerard, beyond an unreasoning antipathy. In his heart of hearts he
believed that Gerard, now an agent in the town, was a worthless fellow,
but such unproven beliefs are useless. He could only look on hopelessly,
and trust that time would put things straight.

Desmond O'Connor paid a flying visit to "Layton" in the summer. He came
quite unexpectedly, and surprised Kathleen one afternoon when she was
reading to Mrs. Quirk out in the garden. Molly Healy was there, too,
cutting flowers for the church, returning every now and again to
interrupt the reading.

Desmond O'Connor came walking up the avenue, lined by trees and shrubs,
and paused to look at the group on the green lawn under the shade of a
large elm tree. He looked fresh and bright in his face, although it had
lost some of the tan associated with country life. His eye was clear,
and his step free; there was the dignity of self-respect in the way in
which he carried himself.

Molly Healy was the first to see him. Shading her eyes with her hand to
avoid the glare of the sun, she took one look at him. Then she dropped
her basket of flowers, and hurried towards him, crying:

"It is Desmond himself!"

Kathleen sprang up and dropped her book. The two girls hastened to meet
him.

"Take him away to your room, Kathleen," said Mrs. Quirk, when she had
welcomed Desmond. "I can look after myself, and you have much to talk
about."

"Let me look after you, Granny," cried Molly Healy; but she cast a
regretful eye at Kathleen and Desmond.

"No, Molly; you can come with us and hear what he has to say for
himself," said Kathleen.

"May I, then? But I would only be in the way," suggested Molly.

"Not one bit, Molly. Come and listen to my wonderful tale of
adventure--a story of robbers slain, wild animals subdued, good fairies
and witches," said Desmond.

"I hope you are minding your soul. It is a dangerous place for young
men, is Melbourne," said Mrs. Quirk.

"Oh, that's all right," replied Desmond, airily. "I am not on the side
of the saints or the sinners."

Molly Healy noted this reply, but she a