I believe the people round about would have made a great fuss over him, if he had not quietly and shyly slipped through their fingers. He made nothing like a public appearance, but spent his time walking about by himself revisiting the places he had known in childhood. When he left, in about ten days after he had arrived, the only tangible signs that he had ever come were the magnificent cheques he sent the Rector and Father O'Sullivan, to be used as they thought well among the poor people. But he carried off our Pierce. He had come upon him fishing, and had sat and talked with him the length of an afternoon, while the May-flies danced above the water, and Pierce filled his basket with beautiful silver trout. The next day Mr. Desmond called, and sent in his card to Aline. The first we heard of him was that Aline had invited him to lunch, which consisted of Pierce's trout, cooked as only Oona knows how. He came two or three times afterwards, and then we heard that Pierce was to go to Africa with him. Pierce seemed fascinated by the man. So indeed did Hugh and Donald, whose noses at that time were not much more than above the table-cloth, but their scent was as keen all the time for danger and adventure as if they stood six feet in their stockings. Aline said to us over and over during those days that it was a great thing for Pierce to have found such a friend as Mr. Desmond, and that he couldn't always be at home doing nothing, and that maybe he would become a great man himself, and build up the Brandon fortunes again; to all of which we gave a cheerful assent, though the tears were big in Aline's eyes. We had great food for speculation then about what would be the extent of Pierce's fortune when he came home, and how much it would take to put Brandon on its legs again. However, all that proved quite futile. Mr. Desmond and Pierce had been together only a couple of years when, for some reason, they quarrelled and separated. Meanwhile Aline has long worn that look of expectation, which means, we know, that she hopes any day may bring Pierce, or news that he is coming. Every month his room, the upper room of the octagon, is turned out, and afterwards Aline herself puts it to rights, setting all the things tidily just as Pierce left them, in the old untidy fashion. His rod and fishing-tackle, his pipes, his gun, his cricketing things, and all his old rubbish she dusts and sets back in their places. If Pierce walked in any day he would find the room ready for him. Every night, long after I am in bed, I know that Aline's light is burning, for our rooms communicate, and a long shaft of gold comes in under the door after my candle has been extinguished. I do not hear her moving about, and then I know that she is praying for Pierce. CHAPTER III. ANNAGASSAN RACES.