wn had
made her go to bed, saying he would follow. But he had not come for a
long time, and she had dropped asleep and wakened to his weary face
beside her bed, and to hear him saying that, thank God, they had got
out the horses, although the stables were all but in ruins.

As she thought over these things the fulness of her love for her
husband swept her heart like a Springtide. It was sweet yet poignant,
for she had the pity beyond all telling in her love for Shawn.
Suddenly she began to be a little in dread because she had been going
against what she knew were his wishes. Would he mind very much if
Terry's choice were Stella and not Eileen? She hoped he would not--at
first. Later on, when he knew little Stella better, with her soft
appealing ways, he would be glad. Eileen would never be such a dear
little daughter. Stella had not those ardent eyes for nothing.

Her disinclination to let the winds of heaven blow too roughly on the
men she loved, for whom she had always the maternal pity, brought a
sharp revulsion of feeling. After all, the world was for the young.
They had never refused Terry anything. In a detached way the father
was very fond of his boy. He was not necessary to him. No one was
that except his wife: but he had been a kind, indulgent father. Why
should not Terry wait a little till his father came to know Stella
better? Things would be all right then. Shawn had seemed to avoid
Stella, perhaps because he avoided Mrs. Comerford.

At last there was Terry's ringing step in the hall. There could be
little doubt to the mother's mind of what tidings he brought. There
was triumph in the step.

He burst in on his mother like a young wind.

"Darling," he said, "I'm so very sorry not to have come home for tea.
I simply couldn't induce Stella to: she's so dreadfully shy, but she
adores you. Congratulate me!"

He placed his two young firm hands on his mother's shoulders, and
stooping, he kissed her.

"I shall never love you any less, you know," he said boyishly. "You
angel, how you helped us! Not many mothers of an only boy would have
done it."

To their ears came the sound of wheels, approaching the house, now
near, now far, as the long avenue turned and twisted.

"It is your father," said Lady O'Gara. "He will be very tired. Don't
tell him yet, Terry. He hardly knows Stella. You are very young. It
will have to be something of a long engagement."

"Oh!" he said, but less disapp