Grey Town Part 18

She recognised that to give her amus.e.m.e.nt full play would be to grievously annoy him. For this reason she turned to look out of the window, thrusting her handkerchief into her mouth the while.

"Does she play?" asked Kathleen.

"She plays and sings divinely. She does everything well. To dance with her--is----."

He ended abruptly, not being capable of giving full expression to his sensations when dancing with Sylvia Jackson.

"Denis Quirk!" cried Molly Healy, and climbed through the window. It was a relief to her to give her mirth full vent.

"Ethereal! Poor Desmond! I wonder will he recover?" she laughed.

"You will not be rude to him?" Kathleen asked her brother anxiously.

He laughed unrestrainedly. All resentment against Denis Quirk was long forgotten, for his anger was short-lived.

"I regard him as a benefactor. He has released me from the thraldom of Grey Town and introduced me to the larger life," he answered.

"Whatever you do, don't speak to him of Sylvia, or I shall laugh," cried Molly on meeting Denis Quirk.

"You are speaking Dutch puzzles, Miss Molly. Who and what are he and Sylvia?" he answered.

"Desmond O'Connor is him, and Sylvia a spirit, just a woman that's ethereal and a spirit. I am thinking poor Desmond is love sick."

Desmond followed Molly through the window, and came with outstretched hand to meet his former chief. Kathleen O'Connor, watching from the window, admired her brother's magnanimity. She would herself have unbent to Denis long ago had it not been for Gerard's influence, and for the dread lest her brother should be lost in the darkness of the great city life.

Denis took the proffered hand and wrung it cordially. One glance at the open face convinced him that his plan had proved successful; the drink fiend had been exorcised.

"And how is Melbourne treating you?" he asked.

"Better than I deserve. I have found good work and good friends,"

replied Desmond.

"I knew you would come out all right, lad," said Denis, kindly. "What is your work--papers or politics?"

"Nothing so grand; just advertising."

"Then you are at the very top, for advertising is the great power these times. You will make and unmake kings and emperors of commerce."

Kathleen O'Connor was that evening kinder and more gracious to Denis Quirk than she had been since Desmond had gone away. Mrs. Quirk, who had noted their estrangement with wondering sorrow, smiled placidly as she heard them laughing, while Molly Healy and Desmond exchanged jests together.

"You are not cross with Denis now, Honey?" she asked the girl after the two men had left the house--Denis for his office, and Desmond for the hotel. "He is good at heart, if sometimes quick in his temper."

Molly Healy, who was preparing to drive home in Father Healy's jinker, cried out:

"Denis is a great man! His heart is as big as your own, Granny!"

Kathleen kissed the old lady as she answered:

"I could not long be cross with anyone whom you loved."

"G.o.d reward you, Honey, for your kindness to an old woman," said Mrs.

Quirk, lovingly.

CHAPTER X.

RUMOUR, HYDRA-HEADED.

Ebenezer Brown lived a lonely life in an old house on the outskirts of the town, the large garden surrounded by a high stone wall. There was always a feeling of gloom about the house, no sound of voices, for Ebenezer Brown was a bachelor, with no relations to care for him, and only one elderly female to provide for his comfort. A venturesome relation had on one occasion taken advantage of the old man's sickness to attempt to secure a footing in his house; but no sooner was the old man out of his bed than the relative was to be seen driving to the station with her luggage. Warned by her fate, no other relation, male or female, dared to enter the house.

It was seldom that lights were seen to gleam from the windows of the house. Still more uncommon was it to find visitors a.s.sembled there. The old man had a place of business in the town, and anyone wis.h.i.+ng to see him might find him there. He discouraged visitors, for visitors suggested hospitality, and hospitality represented the expenditure of money, the one and only thing that the old man valued.

Lights were, however, twinkling from Ebenezer Brown's dining room out into the night a few evenings subsequently to Desmond O'Connor's visit to Grey Town. A meagre attempt at hospitality had been made for the visitors, a scanty supply of water biscuits, a few apples of an antique appearance, with a bottle of limejuice and water. But not one of the guests was sufficiently hungry or thirsty to taste of the good things provided for them.

They sat around the large, bare table, Ebenezer Brown and his three guests, Garnett, Gifford and Gerard--the three G's, as Denis Quirk had nicknamed them. Ebenezer Brown half leaned on the table, his face peculiarly white and eyes very bright in the light of an incandescent gas burner.

"Every man has a past, if you can unearth it. The greater the saint, the worse his past. Eh, Garnett?" he asked.

It was noticeable that Garnett refrained from any direct answer; possibly even he had had a past.

"That play," continued Ebenezer. "What did you call it?" he asked Gerard.

"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

Ebenezer Brown's hearing was exceptionally acute to-night.

"That's the one!" he cried; "and it's true to nature. There's good in a few and bad in all. Eh, Gifford?"

"Unhappily there is," sighed Gifford.

"This man, Quirk," cried the old man, vindictively, "has a past, if we can discover it. We must rid ourselves of him; he's a public nuisance, a dangerous, meddlesome fellow. Always poking his nose into something; always making things unpleasant. Quirk must go!"

"Quirk," said Garnett, in the slow and sententious manner he adopted, "is a radical and a demagogue, a positive scourge to the town. As you say, Quirk must go!"

Ebenezer Brown turned to Gerard this time and asked him:

"Are you prepared to make the necessary enquiries for us?"

"Certainly, if you are prepared to pay the necessary expenses," replied Gerard, carelessly.

Ebenezer Brown winced at this, but his hatred of Denis Quirk was an absorbing pa.s.sion now.

"Garnett and I will share the expenses."

Garnett protested feebly, but the old man overbore him triumphantly.