It was evening again at "Layton." The moon was shining down on Kathleen O'Connor as it shone on her that night when Gerard walked beside and tempted her. She was pacing the shadowed avenue with Denis Quirk beside her. Their voices were low, mere faint murmurs to Father Desmond O'Connor, who sat on the verandah beside old Samuel Quirk and spoke an occasional word to the old man.

There was stillness in the garden, bright moonlight and dark shadows. Overhead the heavens were glittering with a myriad stars. Well might Kathleen's thoughts revert to that other night when danger paced beside her. This night she had no dread, for Denis Quirk had been tried and tempered by the furnace of suffering. Nevertheless, the girl's heart was beating more rapidly than usual, because she recognised that this night marked an epoch in her existence.

For three months since his wife's death Denis Quirk had abstained from asking that which was constantly in his mind. This he did, not because he felt himself bound by a specious loyalty to a false wife, but that Kathleen O'Connor might become accustomed to him in his new position. He would not hurry nor attempt to constrain her; he preferred to give her time to consider him as one permitted to woo her honourably. He became more attentive, more openly anxious to give the girl whatever she desired, more courteous in speech and action; but he refrained from asking the inevitable question.

As they walked side by side Kathleen had the feeling that Mrs. Quirk was close to them. She could almost hear the voice calling "Kathleen" from the drawing-room upstairs, but this night there was no note of warning in the voice. She knew that "Granny" Quirk had looked forward to a union between herself and Denis as the consummation of earthly happiness. She believed that even in her present state of bliss her old friend would rejoice in that union.

Denis Quirk softened his voice to a tender key that is not customary. As a general rule he spoke in the tone of command or in a blunt, off-hand manner. To-night he had chosen the note of entreaty.

"Kathleen" (he rested tenderly upon the word) "I have longed for you many a day. Sometimes I have been torn by a tempest of passionate desire. But I have always respected you, and that respect restrained me. But if you had known the devouring furnace that has burned in me day and night you would have pitied me. I was compelled to hold myself always in hand, to avoid even an unguarded word or look, because I wished to walk with honour beside me. Now I am free to speak all that is in my heart, and that all is 'I love you and I desire you above all women.'"

Kathleen did not answer at once. She was moved by the passion in his voice; she had come to love him, but she was afraid.

"I am frightened," she said in a low voice.

"Frightened of me?" he asked. "Why, I will protect you against the whole world. There is no place for fear."

"You are asking me to give you myself, and if I give, I must give unreservedly."

"Take any time you like to consider it. I can wait," he answered gently.

"No. I don't ask any longer time than a few minutes. Leave me alone for ten minutes; then come to me."

Without another word he returned to the verandah and seated himself beside Father O'Connor, lighting his pipe and blowing thick volumes of blue smoke into the evening air.

Kathleen paced on alone. But suddenly the shrubs beside the avenue parted and Gerard came out quietly. So softly did he step that he was beside her before she recognised the fact. Then she shrank away from him in terror.

"Kathleen," he said, "I've tried to forget you, but I can't. I came here to-night to ask you to come with me; I heard that cursed Quirk speaking to you. What can you care for an ugly brute like that?"

"He is as far above you," she said, "as that star is above the world. How dare you even mention his name?"

He paid no attention to her remark.

"I don't come to ask you to share poverty. I offer you a good name and a fortune," he said. "My father is dead and I am heir to great estates and a time-honoured name."

"If you offered me the world I would refuse it," she answered.

"You loved me once——."

"Never. That was mere imagination on my part, not real honest love," she cried. "Go, at once, before Mr. Quirk returns."

"No, I shall stay," he replied.

"Then take the consequences."

Denis Quirk's step was to be heard crunching the gravel as he came. When he was near them Kathleen hurried to him.

Denis increased his pace until he came to where Gerard stood.

"I warned you not to come near this house," he said.

"The moth comes to the candle. Your warning was useless," said Gerard. "Night after night I have walked this avenue with Kathleen O'Connor. Now she is tired of me."

"Liar," cried Denis Quirk.

"Abuse cannot alter what I say."

"Put up your hands and defend yourself. I hate to strike a defenceless man," said Denis, moved to fury.

"Do you fancy I am afraid of you?" Gerard asked tauntingly.

"Then take it," cried Denis Quirk, and his fist flew out suddenly, beat down Gerard's guard, and stretched him on the gravel path.

"You have killed him," cried Kathleen in sudden terror.

"Not I. Such men as this never die."

Denis stooped and examined the prostrate man.

"He will live to lie again," he said. "I know him for a liar. Night after night I have followed you, not because I distrusted you, but I have seen him lurking about and I feared danger."

She came to him with outstretched hands and hid herself in the big man's arms. They went side by side up the long avenue, and their steps seemed to march to a triumphant anthem.