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He was done with noxious liquids, and proposed to bathe his spirit clear in the vats of Bass and Allsopp. Wilder was-not outside the sphere of reformation, and Guinness would share with the others the credit of his uprising. He drank a tankard or two of each and either as an evidence of good faith, and he left an hour after midnight, more sober than Paul had ever known him at such a time.
As he talked, reiterating the same thing again and again, the heat rose into his neatly-shaved face and little aquiline nose. Mrs. Guinness observed his agitation with calm triumph. She knew but one ladder into heaven, and that, short and narrow, was through her own Church. Kitty was stepping up on a high rung of it. Once the wife of this good Christian man, and her soul was safe. This was Mrs.
She had eloped in high school, run away to Tennessee, and returned eighteen months later. Her family and the church took her back, but . . . She was still living in a shamed shadow. He decided that he needed a Guinness. He stopped at Deweys, and two pints later he was back in control. Better than that. The last of the warrior-lovers invited the entire bar to the housewarming and went home.
Mr Guinness, the extensive agent, holding employments in twenty-seven counties, and himself a proprietor in Tipperary, confirms the fact of leases being generally granted in that county; and contrasts the state of the inhabitants with that of Wexford, one of the most improved districts in Ireland, where the land is much worse in quality, the rents much higher, and the tenantry peaceable and independent, and almost universally tenants-at-will.
"My father," said Kitty, "had once a great trouble. It has made an old man of him before his time. I find that I can take it from him." She looked up at him with this. Now, there was a certain shrewd penetration under the softness of Kitty's eyes. Noting it, McCall instantly lost sight of her beauty and tears. He returned her look coolly. "What was his trouble?" "Mr. Guinness had a son.
If Hugh Guinness stood where you do, and touched these things as you are touching them, could he turn his back on the old man?" Now, Doctor McCall did not touch gun nor cap nor hair, but he bent over the table, looking at them as if he were looking at the dead. He seemed to have forgotten that Kitty was there. At last he stood upright: "Poor little chap!" with a laugh.
"When did Hugh die? How do you know that he is dead?" Mrs. Guinness sat erect and looked at her in absolute silence. Astonishment and anger Kitty had expected from her at her mention of the name, but there was a certain terror in her face which was unaccountable. "What do you know of Hugh Guinness? I never wished that his name should cross your lips, Catharine." "I know very little.
They went down the quiet street together. Mrs. Guinness went back and watched them from the shop-window. "It is as I thought," she said triumphantly. Peter nodded. She came behind him, leaning on his shoulder. "It was only proper for me to speak to him of of " It was fifteen years since Hugh's name had passed between them. "Whatever was necessary to protect you and Catharine," he said quietly.
Guinness had always described her not at all what Kitty had fancied a lecturer on woman suffrage, a manager of the Water-cure and a skillful operating surgeon must be. She was little, pretty, frail, with a very genuine look and voice almost as young as Kitty, and far more tastefully dressed.
But the secret was her own a discovery; a very different affair from this marriage, which had been made and fitted on her by outsiders. "Gone! You don't mean that your mother and Mr. Guinness have gone to leave you for a month!" Mr. Muller was quite vehement with annoyance and surprise. "At least a month," said Catharine calmly. "Mrs.
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