Her mind and heart were given up to Sheila and Sheila's future. That was
why a knowledge of the tragedy that had come to Dyck Calhoun troubled her
as she had not been troubled since the day she first learned of Erris
Boyne's infidelity to herself.

"Let us go to Dublin, mother," said Sheila with a determined air, after
reading the clipping.

"Why, my dear?"

The woman's eyes, with their long lashes, looked searchingly into her
daughter's face. She felt, as the years went on, that Sheila had gifts
granted to few. She realized that the girl had resources which would
make her a governing influence in whatever sphere of life she should be
set. Quietly, Sheila was taking control of their movements, and indeed
of her own daily life. The girl had a dominating skill which came in
part from herself, and also to a degree from her father; but her
disposition was not her father's-it was her mother's.

Mrs. Llyn had never known Sheila to lie or twist the truth in all her
days. No one was more obedient to wise argument; and her mother had a
feeling that now, perhaps, the time had come when they two must have a
struggle for mastery. There was every reason why they should not go to
Dublin. There Sheila might discover that Erris Boyne was her father, and
might learn the story of her mother's life.

Sheila had been told by her mother that her father had passed away abroad
when she was a little child. She had never seen her father's picture,
and her mother had given her the impression that their last days together
had not been happy. She had always felt that it was better not to