Carriages were waiting. Chester was introduced by Lucy in a way which led to the inference that he was a particular friend of the family picked up, perhaps, in their time of need. Bag and baggage was piled in besides them and they drove away through the streets of Cork and into the suburbs. Slowly the horse climbed the hill, but in a short time they were at Uncle Gilbert's home, one of the beautiful ones situated among the green of rolling hillside and the deeper green of trees. There was another warm welcome by Aunt Sarah, who took immediate and personal charge of the sick man. "It's a break-down through overwork," she declared. "You Americans live at such fever heat that it is no wonder you have no nerves. They're burned out of you. But it's rest only he wants, poor man; and here's where he'll get it. Don't you worry, Lucy." Aunt Sarah's masterful treatment of cases such as these took much care and anxiety from them all. Away from the bustle and roar of hurrying humanity and traffic, resting amid the soothing green, and breathing the mild air of the country; the minister ought surely to get well again soon. He would not go to bed, but chose to sit in a big chair with a pillow under his head, looking out of the upstairs window which afforded a view of the town. The sun came in rather strongly during the afternoon and the father motioned Lucy to partly draw the blind. She did so, then drew a stool to his chair and seated herself near him. He placed his hands on her head, patted it caressingly, smiled at her, but said nothing. It was still difficult for him to speak. Presently, there came a light tap at the door. Lucy arose. It was Chester. "Excuse me," he said, "but the people below are somewhat confused over the trunks. I came to inquire." "Come in," said Lucy. "Let the 'confusion' continue for a little while. Come in to where there is peace. Father is feeling better, I am sure." The invalid turned towards the speakers, then with a movement of his head told them to come near. Lucy took her former position, while Chester drew up a chair. Yes; he did seem better, there being some color in his face to add life to his faint smile. "Chester," he whispered with effort, as he reached out and took the young man's hand, "Chester--my boy--I--am--so--glad--you--came--with--us." CHAPTER VIII. While the father was resting quietly at Kildare Villa, as Uncle Gilbert's home was called, Chester and Lucy spent a few days in looking about. "Are there any sights worth seeing around here?" asked Chester of Lucy. "Are there?" she replied in surprise. "Did you ever hear of the Blarney Stone?" Yes; he had. "Well, that's not far away; and those were the Shandon bells you heard last evening, 'The bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters of the river Lee,'" she quoted.