"this leter coms hopin you are wel i do not bare maliss and perhaps i was not very perlit which i regret bein a lady i hop. I therefore beg to apologise and will never menson the cak or the beest but i shud dye of rag if you tel anyone of that grate indignity with kind regards your very truly Miss Sheila Patricia Kathleen O’Brien i must be honourable and ad that this spelling is not qite all my one bein helped by Miss Eileen O’Brien." She addressed it to "mister Stuart barclay essire," and going downstairs desired Sarah to take it next door. Sarah was forbidden to leave the house without permission, but, in face of the Atom’s tremendous weightiness, she fled. Sheila Pat returned slowly to the Stronghold, her face weary with overmuch thought. Nell was surreptitiously studying a photograph of Acushla jumping a stone wall, with herself on her back. Denis had taken it with his Goetz camera. It had been a glorious morning in early spring. She remembered the vivid blue of the sky, the wonderful golden mist that had hung over the Ballymara hills, the feeling of utter fresh joy of life that had filled her and Acushla— "Hulloa! How quiet we are!" Denis invaded the room with cheery breeziness. "Nell, rub noses! Mine’s frozen. I say, the atmosphere’s too exalted altogether for me." "Perhaps we’re doing penance," she laughed. "Denis," she broke off, "whatever have you got?" He was swinging a large square hat box to and fro. "Catch hold!" He swung it across to her. "It’s for you, old girl." "For me? Give me the scissors, Molly!" Presently she pulled from a nest of tissue paper a great soft brown felt hat, with one long brown feather drooping on the brim. "_Denis_! Oh, isn’t it lovely!" "Put it on." She put it on, and turned to him, irresistibly pink and pretty. "But ’tis _wicked_, Denis! And _why_ did you get it? And where—" "It’s lovely," exclaimed Molly, with a big sigh. "Oh, I heard you talking to Molly about having to wear up a hat you hated with your brown suit—" "I thought you were fathoms deep in your Latin!" "Ah, but I wasn’t. So I asked Lancaster if he could tell me of a decent hat shop, and he told me of one in Bond Street where his cousins go. You should have seen his face when I asked him whether he wasn’t coming in with me! He never dreamt I was really going to get it. Don’t see why, myself. ’It’s full of Frenchified women!’ he gasped. So it was. They were awfully sweet to me—tried on the hats, but, by Jove, what hats they were, Nell! I found this one myself. Now isn’t it just the colour of your suit? Let me look at you." He turned her round by her slim shoulders, and eyed her critically. She was adorable in it. "I—I shall take it back, Denis. I suppose they’d give me back the money? How much was it?" "Don’t ask rude questions. And don’t be a goose! They wouldn’t think of taking it back." "Oh!" her voice rose with an irrepressibly joyful lilt. "Are you sure?"