"Oh, for many reasons!" he said hurriedly.
He did not go into detail and I could not ask.
"But you will go back some day?" I urged.
"Go back?" he repeated. "I used to think I should: indeed, at one time I longed for the day and hour of my return; and now—"
I wanted to ask the question which rose to my lips, out I dared not; and just then the conversation became general. Our hostess liked to strike sparks from all her guests, and especially from the brilliant Roderick O'Byrne. After we had all returned to the drawing-room he gradually drifted back again to his chair beside me. We had always been friendly, but I knew that my society had a special attraction for him just then, as a link between him and Ireland. He very soon, in fact, reverted to the subject of our previous talk, inquiring as to this or that place near his old home; though I observed that he never once mentioned any person or persons in the neighborhood. It was evident for some reason that he did not wish to bring Niall into the discourse, and I was just as anxious at the time to avoid that part of the subject.
Suddenly Roderick said:
"I was struck very much the other day by a face which I saw just for a moment."
My heart stood still. I knew what was coming, and I almost dreaded it. But, happily, he did not associate the incident with me.
"It was that of a child," he said, somewhat gravely. "It was a beautiful face, I suppose; but it was not that which specially attracted my attention. I only caught a glimpse—the merest glimpse—of it, but it brought back the past to me as in a flash."
"Strange!" I commented mechanically; for I scarce knew what to say.