Denis was, where women are concerned, quite ignorant and simple. Men he understood, but the female mind was like a strange, unexplored territory to him. He had a vast respect for women, a respect that bordered on fear. To conceal this he made use of a brusquerie of speech and manner that was merely a cloak to his real nervousness. Kathleen O'Connor he regarded as an ideal of womanly perfection: he placed her on a pedestal, and paid her his homage secretly. For her part, Kathleen was beginning to realise that the rough exterior concealed a character truthful, and not ungentle. Realising this, she had laid aside her attitude of resentment, and adopted a friendly camaraderie such as may exist between brother and sister.
To-night, finding his remarks unanswered, Denis turned to his mother.
"I have a plan for to-morrow, old lady," he said—"a day off. What do you say to a boating excursion up the river?"
Mrs. Quirk was still influenced by the vivid effect of her dream. It had been peculiarly real, and had left a marked impression on her mind.
"Will Kathleen be coming?" she asked.
"Kathleen has not been asked," said the girl in a low voice.
"Miss O'Connor was included in my plan," said Denis.
"And will you come, honey? Sure, if I must be drowned, I would like to have you beside me," said Mrs. Quirk.
Denis laughed at the reply, and Kathleen could not forbear from a smile.