blackbirds came in February, calling the first spring messages out of the laurels in the garden. Crocuses and snowdrops brightened the little box-borders of the flower-beds; the earliest potatoes were sown, cabbages and peas planted, and the ground refertilized for rhubarb. The Sunday before Lent, Tom Kearns and Mollie McCabe were called, and they were married quietly on Shrove Tuesday. Mollie sold her cottage, and with the proceeds bought Fintan a passage to Boston. Hugh had ample time to prepare "Fenian" for the meeting, and the horse was fit as fit could be when he got his final gallop on Easter Monday.

On the eve of the races, Hugh blanketed and hooded "Fenian"; the eyes of the splendid beast gleamed through the holes of the hood and filled Hugh with regret. A lump rose in his throat when the horse went up the little gangway and into the horse-box; he could not answer the good wishes shouted after them from the station.

He saw the Round Tower of Kildare a few hours later, and thought of St. Bridget and the fights for Irish freedom around those level plains. He remembered the old prints in the Mintry bookcase which told of the Curragh of eighty years before. The quaint spelling recorded the horses and colors of the Fitzgeralds and Beresfords which strove for victory on the springy sod. Hugh took "Fenian" out at Newbridge, where he stabled him for the night, Next morning he was astonished at the careless attitude of the Kildare people to the races; they were working in the fields as though no great contest were being decided. The meet had little of the excitement of Belcourt. The flat races were monotonous. The weighing and the enthusiasm were mechanical and dry. Hugh realized that only on the small tracks back in the country could be found found wild, spontaneous sporting enthusiasm.

Robert Hope missed his intended train, and when he reached the track the fourth race was out. He saw the flag drop, and the horses, chafing from delay, dashed madly away.

The odds against "Fenian" were so small that Hope placed no bets. He wished he had when he saw the race Hugh's horse was running. Two hurdles from the finish "Fenian” rushed to the front as if his rivals were paralyzed. When he rose at the last fence, Hope shouted: "The Heart of Oak blood forever!" He scarce had given utterance to his joy when the orange and green jacket was struggling to keep from falling. The rider was on the horse's withers; he strove to keep his place, though far on his neck, but in vain.

"My God, he's killed!" cried the terrified father. "Hugh! Hugh!"

"Don't be uneasy, father," cried Hugh's voice, and the young man rose in a place directly beneath the horrorstricken father. "Smith would not allow me to ride," he explained, hurrying up the stand, "he said he wanted to see could another control 'Fenian.' He can't go back on his bargain!" Hugh hurried to take the horse, who after finishing the course quietly surrendered to the man who first grasped the bridle. Smith immediately joined Hugh. Robert Hope turned back to learn if the fallen jockey was injured, but the latter was walking, crestfallen, to the weigh-room. He excused himself by saying he had no idea "Fenian" was going to jump so wild. Smith pretended that the jockey's fall was sufficient excuse to call the bargain off.

"It makes no difference," declared Hugh, and he began to prepare for departure by the earliest train. This was not what Smith had calculated on; he began to hem, haw and qualify, but Hugh was angry, and would listen to nothing till the crestfallen dealer said: "I'll add another hundred pounds to the price."

"If I had not something more serious than the profession of racing-man or jockey before me, I'd never sell him," said Hugh; "but you can have him for seven hundred pounds."

He wished he had valued "Fenian" yet higher, for the dealer promptly replied: "It's a bargain!"

Father and son returned to Belmore, sad over the loss of "Fenian," but relieved of mountains of care. Hugh continued to work on the farm, while Robert Hope became a different man. He consulted Hugh about all matters. The changed relations were a joy to Mrs. Hope. Hugh gave his father a large sum to deposit as a dowry for Annie, and then went to the bank on his own account. He felt strange as he entered; strange that he should have money! He wondered if he were not wicked, for all the virtues were supposed to belong to the poor, while only tyrants and landlords possessed wealth. Then Hugh bought two young horses and taught Joe Norris to train them. Dave Marrick left for America after a sudden fight with his father and a tearful parting with Annie-and then July brought Rose home for vacation. She was a little thinner-the roses of her

cheeks paled a little-but long walks with Hugh by the Nore restored them; and they, in sweet company, worked out their plans for the future. The next step was to be Hugh's departure for Edinburgh in September.

XXIII

LOVE WINS

The following summer Hugh disembarked from the Glasgow boat the first Saturday in July, and went direct from the North Wall to Miss Prager's, only to find that Rose was in Belmore on vacation.

"I have an idea that she'll never return," he said to the staid proprietress. "I should be very sorry to lose Miss Barry."

"Selfishness," laughed Hugh. "Suppose you knew she was going to be happier?"

"Why, Rose is so quiet and reserved that I had an idea that she might become a nun!"

Hugh dashed on a side-car through College Green, and by the Parliament House, up Thomas Street, and past where Emmet died for Ireland, and when he arrived at the Kingsbridge depot he was a full hour too early for his train. While waiting he noticed a well-dressed trio reading a notice which announced the annual sale of the Ballyfin yearlings. He heard one say:

"Gibbs, of Lexington, bought his sorrel at that sale two years ago."

"Yes," declared another, "I know several New Orleans and San Francisco breds there." men who bought their best thorough

"What makes you so silent, Lynch ?" cried the first speaker to the man who had not spoken.

"I'm an Irishman," said Lynch sadly, "and I'm thinking that it is strange that Ireland's exports are reduced to men and horses."

"What better can a nation have?"

smile, "but Ireland gets money for her "Yes," replied Lynch with a sad young horses, but nothing for her young people."

Hugh, before he heard Lynch's reply, was proud of the country able to raise stock to interest the best horsemen in the world, but now he walked in gloomy abstraction to the depot.

He was met at Belmore station by his father, sisters, and Jim. They were proud of him, and made many jokes anent his new dignity as a real "vet", and in truth Hugh feit proud of himself. Annie exhibited his diploma to every visitor for months.

Hugh was glad to be home and revelled in the sunshine of the fine summer days. He missed Dave when he went to the Corrach to shoot "flappers."

But the strong bulrushes waved a welcome, and the black-plumed reeds, flaggers and black-caps whispered over the pools. Orange lilies were blooming in many gardens, while the furze flaunted the national colors on the hillsides and glens by the Nore.

He spent many evenings with Rose, and following a brief visit to Dublin, he said to her one evening: "I hope you'll be ready early next month."

"So soon?" said Rose. "I intended to go back to business to-morrow." "You'll never work anywhere again. but in your own home-ours," he said. "I think it would be better if we got married in Dublin. Your people will make a terrible time."

"Rose," said Hugh, with passion, "we were baptized in Belmore, and we'll be married there."

"Perhaps it is better," she faltered, "for there will be others in the same plight, struggling like us against convention, and they may be strengthened by our example."

"I am glad to hear you talk so bravely, dear."

"I can never tell you how I felt that Christmas morning when you lay dying, as I thought. I thought of the Blessed Mother, a princess of Judea, and her alliance with St. Joseph, a poor carpenter. Yet the world forgets the lesson of that first Christmas morning."

"Don't take it so hard, Rose," interposed Hugh. "They may make a little trouble, but it will be nothing to us in the end."

"Why should there be any trouble?" she sobbed. "Hugh, they hang men for murder, but there's nothing thought of broken hearts. I could not have lived if you had died."

"But I'm alive. Try and forget," he said soothingly. "We have a bright future before us."

"Yes, I will forget, and remember the charity of our religion. But I thought the priest was going to pray for your

soul that morning; and I thought how, though I couldn't see you, we'd both lie in the same graveyard and we'd both go to the same heaven; yet we couldn't see each other when you were in danger of death!"

"It will be heaven when we are married," said Hugh tenderly. He comforted her with his mother's promise to befriend him, and told her he would soon broach the subject at home.

Mrs. Hope sat alone in the sittingroom that evening. The night was warm, and Hugh, as he approached, saw the moon reveal the scenes dear through a thousand youthful associations. He realized that the hour had come for a declaration which might mean the severance of old ties.

"Mother!" She started at his words. "You remember I once asked you to befriend me when a critical hour came."

"Yes, Hugh, dear. I sometimes think that breach between your father and you was a blessing in disguise. Not because Our fortunes have become brighter, but because of the love and sympathy it has made between you and Robert."

"Yes, yes," he said somewhat impatiently, "but has it made you ready to be my friend as you promised?"

"It has, Hugh," she said anxiously. "I am going to be determined now," he said, "as I was when I bought, trained and won with 'Fenian.' I hope you will give me your sympathy and your love in the matter of my marriage."

riage." She started, but Hugh intimated with a gesture that he wished to go on. He knew that fond mothers imagine their sons too good for any girls, even in their own sphere. "I'm going to be married. If you do not consent-but I'll not suppose that-I have always considered your feelings before my own in everything but the purchase of the horse, and that brought us much luck."

"Hugh, it is far easier to judge a horse than a woman."

"Nonsense, mother," he cried merrily. "Rose Barry will be my wife, and there is not a better girl in Ireland."

Mrs. Hope was silent a moment, and then began a pleading argument that he could not marry a poor farmer's daughter. One in his own station would be acceptable to the family.

"It is I, not the family, who will marry Rose," he cried. "I am sorry you will not consent. My station is not any better than hers."

"You always spoke of blood," the obdurate mother insisted; "why, the first question about a horse is his breeding. There's 'Fenian,' for example."

"Mother, you're on my side of the argument. Did 'Fenian' suffer anything for having a hairy coat, full of mud and hayseed, when I bought him? Does Rose Barry's blood suffer because her people, a few generations back, were despoiled of their lands? Doesn't blood tell by her manner, her walk, her intelligence, her delicacy-doesn't it tell in her soul, glowing in her face? It is just like what Dan Dillon said of poor Irish boys who go to fight for England. How can a lot of monocled dudes called officers, whose fathers were made lords for making buttons or beer-how can they lead men whose ancestors were Irish chiefs? The Irish may be robbed and impoverished, but they can't be deprived of their blood."

"Hugh, I have no patience with you. This disgrace will be a poor return for your education." The distressed woman could not contain herself longer and left the room.

Jim handed Hugh a letter from Dave, and in reading it Hugh temporarily forgot his own anxiety. The petitioner found that writing, owing to the typewriter, was a lost art in America, and that Americans conducted business far more simply than was customary in Belmore. There was no place for his

talents as expert penman and shopkeeper. "I presented," the letter read, "Father Matt's testimonial to a big merchant, who said: 'I am doing business on this earth. I want no "sky pilots." I left in disgust, and going to my room, found Bill Barry's address. He was very kind. By the way, he resembles John. He is a foreman for a big construction company. He got me a position, as he said I had been to college. I was given plans to read and to figure on angles, and I couldn't do it, and had to leave. I am now shoveling coal for the Cunard Company. would be far better for me to work on a drained farm of the Corrach, but all that's past. If fellows who leave Ireland think they are educated enough for America because they can write and count columns of figures, they are badly mistaken. I am beginning to think that young Irishmen are educated to be poets or rhymers, and that's why so many become speechmakers."

It

"Poor devil!" thought Hugh. "Yet he cannot say England is so bad, for he is making a living filling her ship's coal bunkers!"

Dave wrote a very different letter to Annie, in which he said that as soon as he had made enough money he would return, and that he was indifferent to what Belmore thought.

"Yes, and we'll get married," cried Annie, as she dropped a tear on the letter. That evening, going to Belmore, she met Mrs. Barry; the interview was heated and brief. Annie rushed home to find her mother seated outside the front door.

"What do you think, mother?" she cried. "That Mrs. Barry, that horrid woman, called me names when I said her daughter had impudence to think of marrying Hugh."

"What did she say?"

"I said Rose should marry a man in her own station in life, and she flared

up and shouted that I should be glad to think of all Rose had done for me." "The idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Hope. "What did the woman mean?"

"Why, she said," went on Annie, "that I would not have the clothes on my back but for Rose, and that Jim and Rita would not have got their education for the past eighteen months but for the same."

"She must be mad," cried Mrs. Hope in alarm. "What could she have meant?"

They did not notice Hugh's approach till he spoke. "Mother, I borrowed the price of 'Fenian' from John Barry. I never knew that Rose was even aware of the transaction. In fact, she wasn't till lately. But the money Barry lent me was Rose's, though I didn't know it at the time."

"If that's the reason you wish to marry the girl, you can honorably withdraw," said Mrs. Hope stiffly.

Hugh laughed outright at the thought that there could be any reason for wishing to marry Rose Barry other than her own dear self. Then he gently reproved his mother. "It is not the act of a good Christian to be offended at those who have assisted them," he reminded her. "It is true that 'Fenian' would never have been bought but for the friendliness of John Barry to me and the generosity of Rose to him, and her industry. Now, if I hadn't got the money I got for 'Fenian' just when I did get it. Jim and Rita would have had to leave school, and not only that, but" -he spoke with a significant accent which reminded them that his father had, ever since the reconciliation, given him his full confidence and disclosed to him all the family affairs-"we might even have lost Mintry. Mother, cease your opposition to this holy and honorable marriage, stop being uncharitable to this good and clever girl! Mother, caste is a curse to Ireland and an insult to God!"

"What will people think? Have you considered that?"

"Of course I have! Am I not old enough to have taken all things into consideration? You would be grieved. if I were slightly injured, but you never think of my love, which is my very life! Now, I am going to see Will O'Brien to ask him to be my best man!"

Mrs. Hope wept softly, unable to express the conflict between her prejudices and her conviction of the unanswerableness of Hugh's arguments. Annie stormed some more, but Hugh, seeing that they were at present hopelessly lost in a feminine storm of emotion, left them, knowing that in time they would both love Rose, who was so good, so wise, so lovable. After seeing O'Brien he went to Barry's. Calling Barry aside, he said slowly: "John, why did you break your word about keeping silence in the matter of my loan?"

"Forgive me, Hugh. I never told any one. But you may recall the day I lent you the money, it was on a Monday, and Rose, though I didn't know it, was in the parlor. She heard every word. She honorably told me soon after that she had unavoidably heard it all. Then one day her mother heard Rose and me talking about it. But it has gone no further than them."

"I am satisfied," said Hugh. Then he found Rose and had a few happy moments with her. He reassured her, and talked of their coming life in Dublin. "But," he whispered, "we'll come home I mean to the banks of the Nore —for a few weeks every summer."

Hugh retired without meeting any of his family, and got up early the following morning, hoping to see his father before breakfast; but vainly. He was pained by the coolness that prevailed. during the meal, but he disliked making any protest. Mrs. Hope was surprised by her husband's indifference when she told him of Hugh's purpose. At the time he made but a passive protest, and