“Come, Garry.”  Joan brought him into the circle at the table with a smile.  Garry joined it with a sinking heart.  He would have had that shining look of wonder in her eyes less unrestrained.  But the shadows for Joan, thanks to Kenny’s lie, lay already dimly in the past.

The merriment of the supper hour Garry thought of later with a pang.  He ate but little, fascinated by the reckless spontaneity of Kenny’s mood.  It put them all at ease.  The big kind Spartan will behind it brought a catch to Garry’s throat.  Daredevil glints laughed in Kenny’s eyes.  Again and again Garry found himself staring at the actor’s vivid face in a panic of unbelief.

“Garry’s had a letter,” said Kenny presently.  “He’s driving back to-night.”

“Garry!”

“I’m sorry.”  Garry rose.  “I’m afraid,” he added, glancing at his watch, “that I’ll have to slip upstairs and sling some odds and ends in my suit case.  Mind, Kenny?”

“Run along,” said Kenny.  “I’ll be up in a minute.”  He drummed an irresponsible tune upon the table and looked apologetic.

“If you’ll not be mindin’, Brian,” he began, “I’ll go along.  He doesn’t know the roads—­”

Brian eyed him with a familiar glint of authority.

“I thought so,” he said slowly.  “I saw it coming.  You’re just in the mood for what Jan calls ‘rocketing’ and Garry’s letter, of course, was the spark.  Luckily, old boy, I’m on the job again.  You’ve been tearing around unguarded a shade too long.”

“I’ve got to go,” barked Kenny, pushing back his chair.  “I’ve had his car for months.  Do you suppose I want him losing his way all night—­”

He fumed off rebelliously, talking as he went.

Brian’s eyes followed him through the doorway.

“Hum!” he said grimly. “‘Richard is himself again!’ You mustn’t blame him, Joan,” he added.  “He was always like that.  He can’t help it.  I mean, dear, tumbling in and out of love.  I always knew the symptoms.  Falling in, he’d whistle softly and his eyes would shine.  He’d be up in the clouds and altogether gay and charming, his work would begin to pall and he’d put it aside until he began to run down.  I always knew when he came to disillusion.  His conscience would begin to bother him about work.  He’d be moody and discontented and a desperate flurry of painting would follow until the next girl smiled.”

He reached across the table and caught her hands.

“It is hard to believe it all,” he said simply.  “And Ireland for a honeymoon!”

The look of shining content in Joan’s eyes deepened.

“Oh, Brian,” she said.  “I shall love it, I know!”

Kenny climbed the stairway in a daze and packed his suit case.  Everywhere he felt the eyes of Adam Craig upon him—­less and less unkind.  They stared at him from the windows by the orchard.  They stared over the creaking banister as he stumbled down the stairway with his courage ebbing.  They stared from the library where the porch light glimmered through the windows. . . .  Fall was in the wind to-night.  The old house creaked.  Adam’s spirit swept in always with a sighing wind.  Kenny shivered.  A bleak place—­the ridge—­and haunted.