"Then I must know him. Will you take me to him and introduce me?"
"It is a long journey from Grey Town to Millerton," she answered laughingly.
"Nothing to a motor on a fine day and good roads. We will start early in the morning, and be there for lunch, see your Bishop, and return here for dinner. Desmond shall come—but what about the Mother?"
Mrs. Quirk had awakened, and lay very quietly, with closed eyes, listening to their conversation. She knew the Bishop well, for he came to visit her whenever he chanced to be in Grey Town. His very name brought a smile to her face, but she refused to place his Lordship before his reverence the parish priest.
"Never mind me," she said. "What is one day to me? But it may mean a good deal to Denis—and still more to Desmond."
They turned in surprise to look towards the spot where Desmond O'Connor lay, apparently asleep.
"To Desmond?" Kathleen asked, in a puzzled voice.
"Sure, you don't know the boy as I do. He comes to me, and we talk together, Desmond and I. The seed is working in the boy's soul—I am thinking he will be a priest."
"A priest!" cried Kathleen so clearly that Desmond rolled over lazily and faced them.