“And what did you think of Kingstown?”

“Well, upon my word, I saw less of it than of a gentleman with long hair and a bundle of newspapers under his arm who received me like a mother just as I landed, hypnotised me into buying half-a-dozen newspapers and started me off for Dublin with his blessing.”

“That was Davy Stevens,” said Phyl, speaking for the first time.

Pinckney’s entrance had produced upon her the same effect as his voice.

You know the feeling that some places produce on the mind when first seen—

“I have been here before

But when or how I cannot tell

I know the lights along the shore—”

It seemed to her that she had known Pinckney and had met him in some place, but when or how she could not possibly remember. The feeling had almost worn off now. It had thrilled her, but the thrill had vanished and the concrete personality of the man was dominating her mind—and not very pleasantly.

There was nothing in his manner or his words to give offence; he was quite pleasant and nice but—but—well, it was almost as though she had met some 18 one whom she had known and liked and who had changed.

18

The little jump of the heart that his voice caused in her had been followed by a chill. His manner displeased her vaguely. He seemed so assured, so every day, so cold.

It seemed to her that not only did he hold his entertainers at a critical distance, but that he was somehow wanting in respectfulness to herself—Lunatic ideas, for the young man could not possibly have been more cordial towards two utter strangers and as for respectfulness, one does not treat a girl in a pigtail exactly as one treats a full-grown woman.

“Oh, Davy Stevens, was it?” said Pinckney, glancing down at Phyl. “Well, I never knew the meaning of peaceful persuasion till he had sold out his stock on me. Now in the States that man would likely have been President by this—Things grow quicker over there.”

“And what did you think of Dublin?” asked Hennessey.

“Well,” said the young man, “the two things that struck me most 

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