CHAPTER IV

KILLIMAGA

Father Murray was sitting in his favorite chair on the rectory veranda
when Mark came up the lawn. He rose with a welcome.

"You must pardon me, Father," began Mark, "for coming so soon after your
noon meal--" Mark hesitated about saying "luncheon," not knowing the
habits of the rectory--"but, frankly, I wanted to talk to you before--"

"Before we go to Killimaga," supplied Father Murray as Mark paused.
"Yes, I know that you are invited. Sit down and open up. I am always
glad to talk--and to listen, too. What is it?"

Again Mark hesitated. "It's to ask about Miss Atheson."

Father Murray's eyes smiled. "I thought so," he said. "What do you want
to know?"

Mark hesitated. "I know that the lady is very charitable and kind, but
especially so to anyone whom you suggest. You must, therefore, be
interested in anything that concerns her."

"I am," said Father Murray. "Very much interested."

Mark thought he noticed a new and half-suspicious note in the priest's
voice, and was distressed. He felt like blaming himself for having
mentioned the subject. He feared he had lost ground with his new-made