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Mike McGrath
Visual Basic
4th edition
covers Visual Studio Community 2015

In easy steps is an imprint of In Easy Steps Limited
16 Hamilton Terrace · Holly Walk · Leamington Spa
Warwickshire · CV32 4LY
www.ineasysteps.com
Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2015 by In Easy Steps Limited. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by
any information storage or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher.
Notice of Liability
Every effort has been made to ensure that this book contains accurate and current information. However, In
Easy Steps Limited and the author shall not be liable for any loss or damage suffered by readers as a result
of any information contained herein.
Trademarks
All trademarks are acknowledged as belonging to their respective companies.

Contents
1 Getting started
Introducing Visual Basic
Installing Visual Studio
Exploring the IDE
Starting a new project
Adding a visual control
Adding functional code
Saving projects
Reopening projects
Summary
2 Setting properties
Form properties
Meeting the properties editor
Editing property values
Coding property values
Applying computed values
Applying user values
Prompting for input
Specifying dialog properties
Summary
3 Using controls
Tab order
Using Button
Using TextBox
Using ComboBox
Using Label
Using PictureBox
Using ListBox
Using CheckBox
Using RadioButton
Using WebBrowser
Using Timer
Summary
4 Learning the language
Elements of a program
Declaring variable types
Understanding variable scope

Working with variable arrays
Performing operations
Branching code
Looping code
Calling object methods
Creating a sub method
Sending parameters
Creating a function
Doing mathematics
Generating a random number
Summary
5 Building an application
The program plan
Assigning static properties
Designing the interface
Initializing dynamic properties
Adding runtime functionality
Testing the program
Deploying the application
Summary
6 Solving problems
Real-time error detection
Fixing compile errors
Debugging code
Setting debug breakpoints
Detecting runtime errors
Catching runtime errors
Getting help
Summary
7 Extending the interface
Color, Font & Image dialogs
Open, Save & Print dialogs
Creating application menus
Making menus work
Adding more forms
Controlling multiple forms
Playing sounds
Playing multimedia
Summary

8 Scripting with Visual Basic
Introducing VBA macros
Creating a Word macro
Creating an Excel macro
Running advanced macros
An introduction to VBScript
Enforcing declarations
Validating input
Merging text files
Getting registry data
Summary
9 Harnessing data
Reading text files
Streaming lines of text
Reading Excel spreadsheets
Reading XML files
Creating an XML dataset
Reading RSS feeds
Addressing XML attributes
Summary
10 Employing databases
An introduction to databases
Designing a database
Creating a database
Adding database tables
Defining table columns
Making table relationships
Entering table data
Creating a database dataset
Adding form data controls
Binding meaningful data
Building custom SQL queries
Summary

1
Getting started
Welcome to the exciting world of Visual Basic programming. This chapter introduces the Visual Studio Integrated
Development Environment (IDE) and shows you how to create a real Windows application.
Exploring the IDE
Saving projects
Reopening projects
Summary

In choosing to start programming with Visual Basic you have made an excellent choice –
the Visual Basic programming language offers the easiest way to write programs for
Windows. This means you can easily create your own programs to give maximum control
over your computer, and automate your work to be more productive. Also, programming
with Visual Basic is fun!
Like other programming languages, Visual Basic comprises a number of significant
“keywords” and a set of syntax rules. Beginners often find its syntax simpler than other
programming languages, making Visual Basic a popular first choice to learn.
Although writing programs can be complex, Visual Basic makes it easy to get started. You
can choose how far to go. Another advantage of Visual Basic is that it works with
Microsoft Office applications, and with the Windows Script Host within the Windows
operating system – so the possibilities are immense.
• Visual Basic (VB) – quite simply the best programming language for the novice or
hobbyist to begin creating their own standalone Windows applications, fast.
• Visual Basic for Applications (VBA) – an implementation of Visual Basic that is built
into all Microsoft Office applications. It runs within a host, rather than as a standalone
application.
• Visual Basic Script (VBScript) – a derivative of Visual Basic that can be used for
Windows scripting.

You can download the projects from this book at
www.ineasysteps.com/resource-centre/downloads/
The New icon pictured above indicates a new or enhanced feature introduced
with the latest version of Visual Basic and Visual Studio.
The evolution of Visual Basic
• Visual Basic 1.0 released in May 1991 at the Comdex trade show in Atlanta, Georgia,
USA.
• Visual Basic 2.0 released in November 1992 – introducing an easier and faster
programming environment.
• Visual Basic 3.0 released in the summer of 1993 – introducing the Microsoft Jet
Database Engine for database programs.
• Visual Basic 4.0 released in August 1995 – introducing support for controls based on
the Component Object Model (COM).
• Visual Basic 5.0 released in February 1997 – introducing the ability to create custom
user controls.
• Visual Basic 6.0 released in the summer of 1998 – introducing the ability to create
web-based programs. This hugely popular edition is the final version based on COM
and is often referred to today as “Classic Visual Basic”.
• Visual Basic 7.0 (also known as Visual Basic .NET) released in 2002 – introducing a
very different object-oriented language based upon the Microsoft .NET framework.
This controversial edition broke backward-compatibility with previous versions,
causing a rift in the developer community. Subsequent editions added features for
subsequent .NET framework releases.
• Visual Basic 8.0 (a.k.a.Visual Basic 2005).
• Visual Basic 9.0 (a.k.a. Visual Basic 2008).
(version numbering of Visual Basic skipped 13 to keep in line with the version
numbering of Visual Studio itself).

Visual Basic derives from an earlier, simple language called BASIC, an acronym –
Beginners
All-purpose
Symbolic
Instruction
Code.
The “Visual” part was added later as many tasks can now be accomplished
visually, without actually writing any code.
All examples in this book have been created for Visual Basic 14.0, although many of the
core language features are common to previous versions of the Visual Basic programming
language.

In order to create Windows applications with the Visual Basic programming language, you
will first need to install a Visual Studio Integrated Development Environment (IDE).
Microsoft Visual Studio is the professional development tool that provides a fully
Integrated Development Environment for Visual C++, Visual C#, Visual J#, and Visual
Basic. Within its IDE, code can be written in C++, C#, J# or the Visual Basic
programming language to create Windows applications.
Visual Studio Community edition is a streamlined version of Visual Studio specially
created for those people learning programming. It has a simplified user interface and omits
advanced features of the professional edition to avoid confusion. Within its IDE, code can
be written in the Visual Basic programming language to create Windows applications.
Both Visual Studio and Visual Studio Community provide a Visual Basic IDE for Visual
Basic programming. Unlike the fully-featured Visual Studio product, the Visual Studio
Community edition is completely free and can be installed on any system meeting the
following minimum requirements:
Component Requirement
Operating system
Windows XP
Windows Vista
Windows 7
Windows 8/8.1
Windows 10
CPU (processor) 1.6GHz or faster
RAM (memory) 1024MB (1GB) minimum
HDD (hard drive) 4GB available space, 5400RPM speed
Video Card DirectX 9-capable, and a screen resolution of 1024 x 768 or higher
The Visual Studio Community edition is used throughout this book to demonstrate
programming with the Visual Basic language, but the examples can also be recreated in
Visual Studio. Follow the steps opposite to install Visual Studio Community edition.
Open your web browser and navigate to the Visual Studio Community download
page – at the time of writing this can be found at visual-studio.com/en-

us/products/visual-studio-community-vs.aspx
Click the “Download Community 2015” button to download a vs_community.exe
installer file to your computer
Click on the vs_community.exe file to run the installer
Accept the suggested installation location, then click Next
Choose the Custom type of installation, then click Next
Check only the Microsoft SQL Server Data Tools feature to be added to the
typical setup, then click Next, Install to begin the download and installation
process
Choosing a different destination folder may require other paths to be adjusted
later – it’s simpler to just accept the suggested default.
The Visual Studio 2015 setup process allows you to install just the components
you need.

You can run the installer again at a later date to modify Visual Studio by adding or
removing features. The Microsoft SQL Server Data Tools are required by the
database example in the final chapter of this book.

Exploring the IDE
Go to the Start menu, then select the Visual Studio 2015 menu item added there by
the installer
Sign in with your Microsoft Account, or simply click the Not now, maybe later
link to continue
Choose your preferred color theme, such as Light, then click the Start Visual
Studio button
The first time Visual Studio starts, it takes a few minutes as it performs some
configuration routines.
The Visual Studio Integrated Development Environment (IDE) appears, from which you
have instant access to everything needed to produce complete Windows applications.
From here you can create exciting visual interfaces, enter code, compile and execute
applications, debug errors, and much more.
You can change the color theme later – choose the Tools, Options menu then
Environment, General.
The Visual Studio IDE initially includes a default Start Page, along with the standard IDE
components, and looks like this:

Start Page elements
The default start page provides these useful features:
• Start – provides links you can click to begin a new project or reopen an existing
project.
• Recent – conveniently lists recently opened projects so you can quickly select one to
reopen.
• News – feeds the latest online news direct from the Microsoft Developer Network
(MSDN).
You can return to the Start Page at any time by selecting View, Start Page on the
menu bar.
Visual Studio IDE components
The Visual Studio IDE initially provides these standard features:
• Menu Bar – where you can select actions to perform on all your project files and to
access Help. When a project is open, extra menus of Project and Build are shown in
addition to the default menu selection of File, Edit, View, Debug, Team, Tools, Test,
Analyze, Window, and Help.
• Toolbar – where you can perform the most popular menu actions with just a single
click on its associated shortcut icon.
• Toolbox – where you can select visual elements to add to a project. Place the cursor
over the Toolbox to see its contents. When a project is open, “controls” such as
Button, Label, CheckBox, RadioButton, and TextBox are shown here.
• Solution Explorer – where you can see at a glance all the files and resource
components contained within an open project.
• Status Bar – where you can read the state of the current activity being undertaken.
When building an application, a “Build started” message is displayed here, changing

to a “Build succeeded” or “Build failed” message upon completion.
The menus are once again in title-case, rather than the ALL CAPS style of the
previous version.
Online elements of the Start Page require a live internet connection – if the
hyperlinks do not appear to work, verify your internet connection.

On the menu bar click File, New, Project, or press the Ctrl + Shift + N keys, to
open the New Project dialog box
In the New Project dialog box, select the Windows Forms Application template
icon
Enter a project name of your choice in the Name field, then click on the OK button
to create the new project – in this case the project name will be “GettingStarted”
The New Project dialog automatically selects the Windows Forms Application
template by default as it is the most often used template.
Visual Studio now creates your new project and loads it into the IDE. A new tabbed Form
Designer window appears (in place of the Start Page tabbed window) displaying a default
empty Form. You can select View, and then the Solution Explorer menu, to open a
Solution Explorer window that reveals all files in your project. Additionally, you can
select View, Properties menu to open a Properties window to reveal all properties of
your Form.

The Form Designer is where you can create visual interfaces for your applications, and
the Properties window contains details of the item that is currently selected in the Form
Designer window.
The Visual Studio IDE has now gathered all the resources needed to build a default
Windows application – click the Start button on the toolbar to launch this application.
The application creates a basic window – you can move it, minimize it, maximize it, resize
it, and quit the application by closing it. It may not do much but you have already created
a real Windows program!
You can alternatively run applications using the Debug, Start Debugging menu
options.

The Toolbox in the Visual Studio IDE contains a wide range of visual controls which are
the building blocks of your applications. Using the project created on the previous page,
follow these steps to start using the Toolbox now:
Place the cursor over the vertical Toolbox tab at the left edge of the IDE window,
or click View, Toolbox on the menu bar, to display the Toolbox contents. The
visual controls are contained under various category headings beside an expansion
arrow
Click on the expansion arrow beside the Common Controls category heading to
expand the list of most commonly used visual controls. Usefully, each control
name appears beside an icon depicting that control as a reminder. You can click on
the category heading again to collapse the list, then expand the other categories to
explore the range of controls available to build your application interfaces

The Toolbox will automatically hide when you click on another part of the IDE, but
it can be fixed in place so it will never hide, using the pin button on the Toolbox
bar.
Any pinned Window in the IDE can be dragged from its usual location to any
position you prefer. Drag it back to the initial location to re-dock it.
Click and drag the Button item from the Common Controls category in the
Toolbox onto the Form in the Designer window, or double-click the Button item,
to add a Button control to the Form
A Button is one of the most useful interface controls – your program determines
what happens when the user clicks it.
The Button control appears in the Form Designer surrounded by “handles” which can be
dragged to resize the button’s width and height. Click the Start button to run the
application and try out your button.

This Button control performs no function when it’s clicked – until you add some
code.
The Button control behaves in a familiar Windows application manner with “states” that
visually react to the cursor.

The Visual Studio IDE automatically generates code, in the background, to incorporate the
visual controls you add to your program interface. Additional code can be added manually,
using the IDE’s integral Code Editor, to determine how your program should respond to
interface events – such as when the user clicks a button.
Using the project created on the previous page, follow these steps to start using the Visual
Studio Code Editor:
Double-click on the Button control you have added to the default Form in the
Designer window. A new tabbed text window opens in the IDE – this is the Code
Editor window
The cursor is automatically placed at precisely the right point in the code at which
to add an instruction, to determine what the program should do when this button is
clicked. Type the instruction MsgBox(“Hello World!”) so the Code Editor looks like
this:
Switch easily between the Code Editor and Form Designer (or Start Page) by
clicking on the appropriate window tab.

The Solution Explorer and Properties windows are closed here for clarity. You
can reopen them at any time from the View menu.
Click the Start button to run the application and test the code you have just
written, to handle the event that occurs when the button is clicked
Click the OK button to close the dialog box, then click the X button on the Form
window, or click the Stop Debugging button on the menu bar, to stop the program
Use the View menu on the menu bar to open the Code Editor, Form Designer,
or any other window you require at any time.
Each time the button in this application is pressed, the program reads the line of code you
added manually to produce a dialog box containing the specified message. The action of
pressing the button creates a Click event that refers to the associated “event-handler”
section of code you added to see how to respond.

In fact, most Windows software works by responding to events in this way. For instance,
when you press a key in a word processor a character appears in the document – the
KeyPress event calls upon its event-handler code to update the text in response.
The process of providing intelligent responses to events in your programs is the very
cornerstone of creating Windows applications with Visual Basic.

Saving projects
Even the simplest Visual Basic project comprises multiple files which must each be saved
on your system to store the project.
Follow these steps to save the current New Project to disk:
Click the Save All button on the toolbar, or click File, Save All on the menu bar, or
press Ctrl + Shift + S
Your project is now saved at its default save location
To discover or change the save location click Tools on the menu bar, then select the
Options item
Expand Projects and Solutions in the left pane, then choose the General option to
reveal Projects location

You can click File, Close Solution on the menu bar to close an open project – a
dialog will prompt you to save any changes before closing.
Find the Debug folder in your saved project directory containing the application’s
executable (.exe) file – you can double-click this to run your program like other
Windows applications.

Reopening projects
Use these steps to reopen a saved Visual Basic project:
Click File, Open, Project/Solution on the menu bar to launch the Open Project
dialog
In the Open Project dialog, select the folder containing the project you wish to
reopen, and Open that folder
Now, select the Visual Basic Solution file with the extension .sln to reopen the
project, or alternatively, open the folder bearing the project name, then select the
Visual Basic Project File with the extension .vbproj
Only have one project open at any given time to avoid confusion – unless several
are needed to be opened together for advanced programming.

If you don’t see the Form Designer window after you have reopened a project,
click the Form1.vb icon in Solution Explorer to make it appear.

Summary
• The Windows Application Template in the New Project dialog is used to begin a new
Windows application project.
• A unique name should be entered into the New Project dialog whenever you create a
new Visual Basic project.
• The Form Designer window of the Visual Studio IDE is where you create the visual
interface for your program.
• Visual controls are added from the Toolbox to create the interface layout you want for
your program.
• A control can be dragged from the Toolbox and dropped onto the Form, or added to the
Form with a double-click.
• The Visual Studio IDE automatically generates code in the background as you
develop your program visually.
• The Code Editor window of the Visual Studio IDE is where you manually add extra
code to your program.
• Double-click on any control in the Form Designer to open the Code Editor window at
that control’s event-handler code.
• The Start button on the Visual Studio toolbar can be used to run the current project
application.
• Pressing a Button control in a running application creates a Click event within the
program.
• Code added to a button’s Click event-handler determines how your program will
respond whenever its Click event occurs.
• Providing intelligent responses to events in your programs is the cornerstone of
programming with Visual Basic.
• Remember to explicitly save your working project using the Save All button on the
toolbar, to avoid accidental loss.
• Select the solution file with the .sln extension in your chosen saved project directory to
reopen that project.

2
Setting properties
This chapter describes how properties of an application can be changed at “designtime”, when you are creating the
interface, and at “runtime”, when the application is actually in use.
Form properties
Meeting the properties editor
Editing property values
Coding property values
Applying computed values
Applying user values
Prompting for input
Specifying dialog properties
Summary

Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Roderick, turning deadly pale; while I,
seizing the child firmly by the hand, turned a corner abruptly and
hastened into Broadway, where, as before on a similar occasion, I
took a cable car.
"And yet I have tried to be true to my trust," I repeated over and
over to myself. "At the risk of losing Roderick's friendship, I have
refused to answer any questions."
"Oh, why did you go and leave the gentleman like that?" asked
Winifred, imperiously, as soon as we entered our rooms at the hotel.
"It's a shame—I tell you it's a shame!" And she stamped her little
foot on the carpet.
"Winifred!" I said severely. "You must be careful!"
"I don't care!" she cried. "I won't be good any more. It was very
impolite to run away from that gentleman; and I wanted to talk to
him, because I think I knew him once, or perhaps only dreamed
about him."
I saw now that the dénouement was coming nearer and nearer. The
matter was indeed being taken out of my hands. I determined,
however, that I would be true to Niall; and that if some news did not
soon come from Ireland, I should remove the child from New York
and go with her, perhaps, to Canada. I rejoiced that the holidays
were over and that to-morrow Winifred must return to school.
"It may not be for long," I warned her; "and then you may regret
the advantages you have had here. You see, Niall may get too
lonesome and send for you any time."
"I would love to see him and Granny and Father Owen and the
others!" she exclaimed. "But if we went away to Ireland, I would like
the dark gentleman to come too. Perhaps he would if you asked
him."
"Everything will come right, I hope," I answered, evasively. "And I
am very glad you like the dark gentleman, because you may see him

very often when you are older."
"Do you think so?" she asked eagerly. "Oh, I shall like that! But are
you perfectly sure of it?"
"I am almost sure of it," I replied; and then, telling her that the bell
was about to ring for the departure of visitors, I hurried away, for
fear she might begin to question me too closely.
After that I had many lonely days of anxious waiting as the winter
sped drearily away. February and then March drew their slow lengths
along, and my letters were still unanswered. April was ushered in,
more changeable than ever; mornings of sunshine being followed by
afternoons of rain, and days of almost midsummer heat giving place
to the chilliest of evenings.
One day I was sitting in my room at the hotel, embroidering a little,
and disconsolately watching the throng on Broadway, when there
came a knock at my door. A bell-boy entered with two letters upon a
salver. My heart gave a great throb as I seized them, recognizing on
both the Irish postmark. Broadway, with its throng of people, faded
from before me; and I held the two letters in my hand—reading the
address, now on one, now on the other, and putting off the moment
of opening them; for I felt a curious dread. Suppose Niall should
hold me to my promise or sternly command me to bring Winifred
forthwith back to Ireland without even revealing her identity to
Roderick? At last I broke the seal of one of the letters with a hand
that trembled. I had to control a nervous agitation, which almost
prevented me from seeing the characters before me, as with a pale
face, I began to read.

CHAPTER XXIV.
LETTERS AT LAST.
The letter I had opened was, I knew, from Niall. I remembered the
strange, crabbed characters, almost resembling Arabic, in which he
had written my letter of instruction.
"The hills of Wicklow," he began, "are streaming with sunlight. Their
spurs are all golden, and the streams are rushing in great gladness,
for they are full of joy. They have been freed from the bondage of
winter.
"There is joy in the hills. It is sounding in my ears and in my heart.
Words I dare not speak, daughter of the stranger! I can not put on
paper the thoughts that are burning in my brain. You have found
him, the beloved wanderer; and you have discovered that his heart
has never wandered from us. I knew before now that he was not to
blame; and of that I shall tell you some day, but not now.
"Had I wings, I would fly to Roderick and to my beautiful little lady. I
love him, I love her. My heart has been seared by her absence. Until
your letter came, the hills spoke a strange, new language, and I
have heard no human speech. When your letter reached the village,
I was up at my cabin in the hills, unconscious of good or evil,
burning with fever. The good Samaritan found me out; who he is
you can guess. It was long, long before my senses came back; and
he would not read me your letter until I had grown strong. When I
heard its contents, I feared even then that my brain would turn. For
two days I roamed the mountains. I fled to my cavern of the Phoul-
a-Phooka for greater solitude. I could not speak of my joy—I dared
not think of it.

"And now, O daughter of the stranger, heaven-sent from that land
afar! bring her back to my heart, lest it break with the joy of this
knowledge, and with sorrow that the sea still divides me from her,
and that other equally beloved. Oh, what matters education now!
Let the beautiful grow as the flowers grow, as the trees shoot up,
clothed in beauty.
"Come now in all haste; and tell Roderick that on my knees I implore
him to come too, that I may reveal all. Bid him hasten to Niall, the
forlorn."
He broke off abruptly, with some words in Irish, which, of course, I
did not understand. My own head was swimming; a great joy surged
up in my heart, and I could almost have echoed Niall's wild
rhapsody. When should I see poor Roderick and tell him—what? I
had not yet made up my mind as to how I should fulfil that delightful
task. However, I would write to him that very day and bid him come
to hear the glad news.
I took up the other letter, which was, I doubted not, from Father
Owen. Of course he could add nothing to my great happiness; still, it
would be of the deepest interest to hear every detail relating to this
matter of paramount importance. The letter was just as
characteristic as Niall's had been; and I seemed to see the priest's
genial face lighted up with pleasure, as he wrote, and to hear his
kindly voice.
"Laus Deo!" began the letter. "What words of joy or praise can I find
to express my own sentiments and those of the faithful hearts
whose long years of waiting have been at last rewarded! I took your
letter to Mrs. Meehan, and I had to use diplomacy—though that was
a lost art with me, so simple are my people and my duties—for fear
the shock might be too great. But I don't think joy ever kills. I wish
you could have seen her face—so tranquil, so trusting, illumined with
the light of happiness. You can imagine the outburst of her praise
rising up to the Creator, clear and strong as a lark's at morning.
Barney and Moira were only restrained by my presence from cutting

capers, and at last I said to them: 'Go out there now, Barney, my
man, and you too, Moira, my colleen, and dance a jig in the
courtyard; for I am pretty sure your legs won't keep still much
longer.'
"And now of poor Niall! When your letter came I went in search of
him. No one had seen him for a good while, and it was supposed he
had gone off on some of his wanderings. None of the people would
venture near his cabin, so I took my stick in my hand, and went
there with the letter. I found the poor fellow in a sad plight—alone,
burning with fever, delirious, and going over all kinds of queer
scenes in his raving: now crying for 'gold, gold, gold!' or giving
heart-piercing cries for Winifred. Again, he would be back in the
past, with Roderick, a boy, at his side.
"Well, there was no one to take care of the creature; and, as it fitted
in with my day's work, I took care of him myself. His gratitude, when
he came to consciousness, was touching; and yet I had only
followed the plainest dictates of humanity. When I thought my
patient was strong enough, I read the letter to him. Bless my soul! it
was like a whirlwind. He nearly took the breath out of me, rushing
from the cabin in a kind of madness, and leaving me sitting there
staring at the door by which he had gone. I did not see him for more
than a week, and I assure you I was anxious. I was afraid he had
lost his mind through excess of joy.
"To make a long story short, when he did come back again I got
hold of him entirely. Joy seems to have changed his nature as
sunshine will purify a noisome spot. He is as gentle and tractable as
a lamb; and better than all, his old faith and piety have come back
to him. He goes to Mass and the sacraments. The light of heaven
seemed to flow in on him with your letter. His sorrow for the past
was like that of a child. I told him not to be disturbed about it, but
just go on asking for mercy, mercy—only that and nothing more.
'For,' said I to him, 'my poor fellow, there's the eye of God looking
down; and as it sees the noxious weed and the fairest flower, so it
beholds our sins and our waywardness as well as our virtues. If

these weeds of sin are plucked, the flowers of our virtues are just as
fair in His sight.'
"But, O dear lady, how the old man sits and longs for the hour of
reunion! He is out on the hills when their spurs are burnished gold,
at the sunset hour; and he is there at the dawn waiting for the first
beam to light up the Glen of the Dargle; he is out in the moonlight
watching it making strange shapes out of the trees; and all the time
with that one thought in his mind. He looks for gold no more,
because he says his love of it was sinful; and the only treasures he
seeks for now are the faces of his loved ones. Do not keep him long
waiting, I entreat.
"Tell my pet, Winifred, the robin is out there now, busy as ever; and
just bursting his breast with the joy of coming spring. I am proud
and glad to hear of her success at the convent and sorry she has to
leave it so soon. Say a prayer sometimes for the old priest in far-off
Ireland, who soon will be slipping away to his rest—but not, he
hopes, till he lays eyes on you again, and thanks you for the
happiness you have brought to him and to the little ones of his
flock."
I sat there for some time going over these letters, alternately, and
delighting in the pictures which their eloquent language evoked. To
one thing I made up my mind; I should go back to Ireland and be
present at the joyful meeting. Indeed, my eye brightened, my cheek
glowed at the thought of seeing again those lovely scenes, and of
the pleasant reunion of hearts at which I was to be present. But it
was my turn to write a letter, or at least a very brief note, asking
Roderick to come to me as soon as possible. That being Saturday, I
thought I should have to wait till Monday for his visit.
Sunday passed in a feverish state of agitation. I was going out to
supper in the evening, at the very same house where I had before
met Roderick, but it was unlikely he would be there again. What was
my surprise to see his tall figure standing near the fire talking to our
hostess! He saluted me gravely. I thought he looked thin and worn;

but at first he did not come near me: and I feared he had resolved
to avoid me. As we were all making a move for supper, I managed to
whisper:
"I wrote you a note yesterday. Please promise to comply with the
request I make you in it."
He turned sharply:
"You wrote to me?" he queried.
"Yes," I answered.
"May I ask about what?"
Though the words were curt, Roderick's tone was genial and his face
smiling.
"Merely asking you to come to see me to-morrow evening—but your
partner is waiting, you must go."
He turned to the young girl beside him, with an apology for his
momentary inattention. If his mind was inclined to wander from her
to the subject of my approaching communication, he was too
courteous and too accomplished a man of the world to let her
perceive it. I was almost sorry I had spoken, lest it should spoil his
supper. Several times I saw him looking at me; but I only smiled and
went on talking to my partner, a brilliant lawyer with a great
reputation for wit. Very soon after supper Roderick came over to me,
with his usual almost boyish eagerness.
"What do you want to say to me?" he demanded, smiling yet
imperious.
"How do you know I want to say anything?" I retorted, smiling back.
"Of course I know, and I am going to hear what it is, too!" he cried,
seating himself beside me.

"Now, Roderick," I said, "if I were a charming young lady, such as
that one you have just left, I could never resist that face and that
voice. But as matters are, you'll just have to wait till I make up my
mind to tell you; for spectacled eyes see without glamor, and gray
hairs give us wisdom."
He laughed and his face took on a brighter look. I fancy that he
knew by my tone I had good news to tell.
"I won't go to see you on Monday night," he declared, "unless you
give me a hint."
"Well, I will give you a hint, and then you needn't come to see me."
"That is unkind."
"No; it would only be giving you trouble for nothing. The substance
of what I have to say to you is this: that you must take a trip to
Ireland very soon."
"Alone?"
"Yes, alone."
"And when I get there?"
"You'll be glad you went."
He pondered deeply, for some moments.
"Isn't this very like a fool's errand?" he inquired.
"Which is the fool, he who goes or she who sends?" I replied,
mischievously.
"Can you ask?" he laughed. "A man is nearly always a fool when he
does a woman's errand."
"But, seriously, you will go?"
He thought a little longer.

"I will," he answered, "if you will only promise me one thing."
"What is that?"
"That there will be an end of all this mystification."
"I promise you that, most solemnly," I answered. "Once on Irish soil,
you shall know everything."
"Tell me now," he said, with sudden eagerness, "how is Winifred,
asthore?"
There was a world of feeling in his voice, though he came out with
the epithet laughingly.
"Well and happy," I assured him.
"Will you give her something from me?"
"I'm not so sure," I said, jestingly; "for you've quite won her heart
already. She talks of nothing but the 'dark gentleman.'"
A glow of pleasure lit up his face.
"And now, what is it you want me to give her?"
He took a small box from his waistcoat pocket. It was the prettiest
little ring, with a green stone in the center.
"The color of hope—the color of Ireland," Roderick observed.
"A good omen," I said, looking at the gem, where it lay sparkling in
the wadding.
"You will give that to Winifred from her unknown friend," Roderick
said.
"She will be delighted—though, you know, of course, she will not be
allowed to wear it in the convent."
"Ah, she is in a convent!" he exclaimed. "But in any case, let her
keep it as a reminder of me."

I thought as I watched him that if Winifred so closely resembled her
dead mother, she was also like her father. His face was as mobile
and expressive as hers, allowing always for the mask which the
years are sure to put over every human countenance.
"You fancy there is a resemblance in this girl to your dead wife?"
"I know there is a resemblance to Winifred's dead mother," he
answered.
I was silent though I had little reason for concealment henceforth.
"How cruel you have been all this time," he exclaimed, as he
watched me; "I think it comes natural to your sex."
"Don't revile our sex for the faults of your own," I answered. "But
tell me more about your dead wife."
His face changed and softened. Then a look came over it—a look of
tender remembrance, which did him credit.
"She was very beautiful," he began, "at least I thought so. I met her
when she was only fifteen. She was the image of what Winifred is
now, only her beauty was more pronounced, and she had a
haughtier air. I never forgot her from that moment. When she was
eighteen, we were married. She was only twenty-four when she
died, but I remember her still as vividly—"
He stopped, as though the subject were too painful, and then
resumed, half dreamily:
"I am going to tell you now what will lend an added value to that
little trinket I have given you for Winifred." He paused again, and
drew a deep breath, looking at me hard. "It belonged to—to my
wife, when she was a child of Winifred's age. Winifred will prize it,
because it was—her mother's."
I stood up, and Roderick, rising also, confronted me.
"Can you deny it?" he asked defiantly.

I was silent.
"Pray what is the object of further secrecy?" he pleaded. "Tell me, is
not Winifred my child, the child of my dead wife?"
I bowed my head in assent. Concealment was neither useful nor
desirable any longer.
The look of triumph, of exaltation, of joy, which swept over his face
was good to see.
"But you will wait?" I pleaded, in my return. "You will go to Ireland,
as agreed, and your child shall be all your own entirely and forever?"
"I will wait," he answered quietly, "though it is hard."
And then we shook hands and parted. I felt that I must hurry away:
for I could not go on talking of commonplace subjects, either to
Roderick or to any of the others. As I took leave of our hostess she
said, laughingly:
"You and Mr. O'Byrne were quite melodramatic, standing over there
a few moments ago."
I laughed, but I did not give her any information. When I got home I
wrote to Niall, telling him that in a month or two at furthest I would
bring Winifred back, but that I wanted to show her a little of the
American continent before taking her home. On my next visit to the
convent, I did not say a word to the child—I was afraid it would
unsettle her for her school-work, but I informed her teachers that it
would be necessary to withdraw her before the expiration of the
term. After the trip which I intended to take with her to Niagara and
a few other points of interest, I determined to cross the ocean once
more and bring Winifred safely back to Niall. I should let Roderick
sail by the Cunard line, while we would take passage by the White
Star line, so that our arrival would be almost simultaneous.
I presented Winifred with her ring, though at the time I did not tell
her it had been her mother's. She was more than delighted, as I had

foreseen, and put it at once upon her finger. She was vexed, and
indulged in one of her childish outbursts of petulance, when I
explained to her that wearing it was against the rules. She had to be
content with keeping it where she could look at it, very often. She
sent a very pretty message to Roderick.
"Tell him," she said, "I remember him when the birds sing, when the
organ plays, when the sun shines—whenever there is happiness in
my heart."

CHAPTER XXV.
HOME AGAIN.
The next few weeks were full of the bustle of preparation. When I
told Winifred she was to leave the convent before the end of the
term, and, after a few weeks of travel, to return to Ireland, she
seemed fairly dazed at the unexpected news.
"Her education, of course, will have to be continued," I thought;
"but hardly in an American convent."
One May morning Winifred took leave of her teachers and school
friends, and we set out direct for Niagara. When we reached the
Falls, she was for a time wholly lost in wonder. The stupendous mass
of falling water seemed to produce upon the little girl a curious
impression of bewilderment.
"Oh, it is grand, grand!" she said. "This America is a wonderful
place."
Winifred and I had, as it were, a surfeit of beauty; and so by the
afternoon our exclamations of wonder and delight became
exhausted, and we could only look out upon the lovely and varied
panorama in silence. But we were roused to excitement as the
afternoon sun began to take a downward slope and we neared the
far-famed Rapids. The passengers braced themselves as if for
certain danger (though in reality there is comparatively little) as the
steamer rushed into the great masses of foaming water with a lurch
and a bound that sent a tingle to every nerve. Onward she dashed,
the speed seeming to become more terrific as we descended the
river in the direction of Montreal. It is a thrilling, though delightful,
experience. As for Winifred, she seemed to enjoy the situation
thoroughly. Not a shade of alarm crossed her face, while many of

the older passengers were visibly agitated. From the steamer's deck
we took a last glimpse of the city, lying golden in the sunset, with
the figure of Our Lady of Good Help on the tower of Bonsecours
church, stretching wide its arms in benediction over the great river
which Cartier discovered.
At dawn we were nearing Quebec, and rushed out of our cabins for
a first sight of the Gibraltar of America. We flew past Levis, Sillery,
and, rounding Cape Diamond, suddenly beheld the ancient walls, the
colossal rock crowned by the citadel, with Lower Town, squalid if
picturesque, at its feet. Landing, Winifred and I took a calèche to the
Chateau Frontenac, where we breakfasted.
Recrossing the American borders, we made a short trip through the
White Mountain region, exulting in those glorious scenes. At New
York we rested a day or two in our old quarters, and did a good deal
of shopping; for had we not Granny and Niall and Father Owen to
think of, not to speak of Barney and Moira, the landlord of the inn,
and other Wicklow notables? No one was to be forgotten.
After this we went into Pennsylvania, one of the most wonderful of
all the States, and crossed the far-famed Horseshoe bend in the
Alleghanies. Winifred looked fearlessly down into the vast chasm and
saw with composure the end of our train on the other side of the
ravine. It was a sight upon which few could look unmoved. We saw
something of the wonders of the mining and coal districts, and the
beauty of the Delaware and Lehigh.
We continued our breathless journey to Washington, where we
remained a few days to rest. It is a beautiful city, refreshing to mind
and body, though somewhat warm at that season of the year; but its
noble dwellings, its public monuments, surpassed and overtopped by
the Capitol, have a wonderful charm.
One evening we were strolling along in the very shadow of that
classic pile when Winifred said:

"Barney and Moira will think I've been in fairyland if I tell them half
of all I have seen; but I love dear Ireland best, after all."
"We shall sail from New York by the next White Star liner," I
observed presently; and I thought within myself: "Roderick will be
sailing by the Cunarder. It will be a race which shall reach Liverpool
first."
By an odd coincidence, as I thought thus, Winifred was turning
round upon her finger the ring which Roderick had sent her.
"I should like to have seen him," she said, pointing to the ring, "and
thanked him for this. I suppose I shall never see him again. I have a
strange fancy that I saw him long ago, and that he is—" she
hesitated—"that he is the dark gentleman who was angry with the
lady in yellow," she concluded, slowly.
"Dreaming again, Winifred!" I said.
"This is not dreaming," she corrected; "for sometimes I am almost
sure it is true, and that he is the same one—only I have never seen
him angry."
"Perhaps the dark gentleman was not so very angry even then," I
suggested, to divert her thoughts from Roderick.
"Perhaps not," she said reflectively; "but I think he was."
"Your father—for the gentleman you speak of was, I suppose, your
father—was devotedly attached to your mother."
"Was he?" inquired Winifred, simply.
"Yes, indeed: he thought her the most beautiful creature in the
world."
"I'm glad of that," Winifred said; and, in that fashion of hers which
so constantly reminded me of her father, she turned away from the
subject.

On Saturday morning early we were on board the great steamer, in
all the bustle of departure; and after a pleasant voyage we arrived at
Liverpool on schedule time, as the guidebooks say, and installed
ourselves for the night at a comfortable hotel. Next day we set forth
to see whatever this smoky city of industry has to show. We were
passing along one of the smokiest and narrowest of streets when
Winifred suddenly pulled my arm.
"Did you see him?" she cried excitedly.
"Who?" I inquired, though I partly guessed—being fully prepared to
see Roderick O'Byrne in Liverpool.
Winifred touched the ring on her finger to show whom she meant.
"It may have been only a chance resemblance," I observed
evasively.
"It was he," she declared decisively, and her eyes sparkled with
excitement. "Oh, I am so glad!" she went on. "We must find him. I
want to thank him for the ring."
"It will be impossible to find him in this crowd," I answered.
She pointed to a shop.
"He is in there," she cried, "and I must see him! If you do not come
with me, I will go myself."
She was full of her old impetuosity, urging on my reluctant steps.
"One thing that I want to ask him," she went on, "is whether he
knew the beautiful lady in yellow."
When we reached the shop door, Roderick stood just inside; and I
almost fancied he had stepped in there to avoid us, knowing that I
did not wish for a premature dénouement of the little plot. However,
his face also wore an eager expression, and it lighted as Winifred
confronted him. He opened the door and came out onto the

pavement, looking at me for directions. I put my finger to my lips,
signifying that he must not as yet disclose himself.
"I want to thank you for this ring, with its lovely green stone," she
said.
"It's only a trifle, little one," Roderick replied lightly.
"I was so sorry when I thought I should never see you again,"
Winifred cried, impetuously.
"Were you?" asked Roderick, with an unsteadiness in his voice which
caused me to give him a warning look.
"Yes, because I was leaving America forever. And one thing I wanted
to ask you so much was, if you remembered the beautiful lady in
yellow. I have been so anxious to know."
She looked up into his face with her great, starlike eyes; and he
gazed at her in return.
"Do I remember the beautiful lady in yellow?" he repeated. "As I
hope for heaven, yes, and never shall I forget her while I live!"
The answer, however, was given in an undertone, which she did not
catch.
"Because if you knew her," went on Winifred, "I was going to ask if
you were the dark gentleman who slammed the door?"
"I'm afraid I was," he whispered in my ear. "How our misdeeds do
follow us, and what a memory the little one has! I had had a dispute
with some one very dear to me about going to the old place in
Wicklow. She, poor girl, had no wish to see the 'ruin,' as she called
it. I lost my temper, and so came about the little scene Winifred
remembers and describes."
Turning to Winifred, he asked:

"Now, why do you think I could do such a naughty thing as slam a
door?"
Winifred was confused. Her natural politeness prevented her from
replying.
"Am I so very fierce-looking or so violent?" Roderick resumed; for he
was in high spirits and ready to carry the mystery further.
"It isn't that," answered Winifred; "only you look like him."
"Look like a gentleman that got angry and slammed a door?" he said
in the same jesting tone. "Now, that is too bad of you altogether."
His bright, laughing face and sunny manner mystified the child even
more than his words.
"Never mind," he went on; "I forgive you this time, but you must
really try to get up a better opinion of me. I must go now, but we
shall meet again, and it won't be over the seas either. I am going to
hear more about that uncivil dark gentleman who frightened a dear
little girl."
"He was cross, too, to the lady," said Winifred, rather defiantly; for
she was vexed somewhat by his jesting.
"Well, I am sure he was sorry enough for that afterward," said
Roderick, with a sudden clouding of his face—"as we are always
sorry for our fits of ill-temper. Remember that, my child."
He waved his hand in farewell, and Winifred stood looking after him.
"I am glad we are going to see him again," she observed; though,
with the implicit faith of childhood, she did not ask when or where.
When we had got back to the hotel she talked chiefly of Granny and
Niall, of Father Owen, and of her humble friends Barney and Moira;
and could scarcely wait for the night to be over and morning to
come that we might set out for the scenes of her childhood.

The most impatiently longed-for morrow comes at last. It was a
gray, lowering day when we left Liverpool. Before quitting the hotel,
a box of candy was handed to Winifred. When she opened it there
was a card upon which was written:
"From the man that looks like the naughty dark gentleman who
slammed the door."
It seemed as if it must be a dream when we drove in a hired car
from Dublin once more to the Glen of the Dargle. I had written to
the landlord of the neighboring inn to have our rooms in readiness.
And there he was at his door, stony-visaged and reticent; but the
stone was furrowed by a broad smile as he helped us from the car.
"Welcome back, ma'am! And welcome to you too, Miss Winifred
alanna!"
Winifred shook him cordially by the hand; and turned with a cry of
joy to where Moira stood, red in the redness of the dying sun which
shone out through a mist—for the weather had been uncertain all
that day; and red, too, with a new shyness, which caused her to
stand plucking at her apron. Barney kept urging her forward, but
was not much more confident himself.
Winifred's greeting to them was good to hear. And she wound up by
the flattering assurance:
"You'll think I'm a real fairy this time when you see my trunks open
to-morrow."
It was some time, however, before that pair of rustic tongues were
unloosed and they began to chatter away like magpies. After a little
while Winifred proposed a run; and off they all flew, the young
traveler, in spite of the fatigue of her journey, leading in the race.
Her curls, which had grown longer in her absence, formed a cloud
about her head.
"Father Owen bid me tell you he was off for a sick-call, down to
Enniskerry below there; but he'd be back in an hour's time, and

you'll see him as quick as he comes," said the landlord.
"It's good to get back again," I said, seating myself on the familiar
bench at the door, and letting my eyes wander over the lovely
scenes—the blossoming trees, the gold of the laburnum, and the
whole sweetened by the pervading fragrance of the hawthorn.
"We're proud to have you with us, ma'am," the landlord declared.
"We thought the time long since you left."
The "we" referred to his better half, who, however, rarely left the
kitchen, and with whom I had not exchanged half a dozen words.
"I don't think I'll ever go away, again," I said; "so you may just as
well arrange my rooms accordingly. And now what of the
schoolmaster?"
"They tell me," he said, speaking in a confidential undertone, "that
Father Owen exorcised him—took off of him some spell that the
'good people' had laid upon him, forcing him to wander night and
day—and scatterin' his wits."
"At any rate, Niall of the hills has changed his ways, I hear," said I.
"Well, so they tell me; though there are them that met him
wanderin' still on the hills. But sure mebbe the poor daft crathure
was only takin' the air by moonlight."
"And Granny Meehan?" I inquired.
"Oh, she's to the fore! And it's her ould heart that'll be rejoiced
entirely by your return, not to speak of her colleen."
At that moment Winifred entered, with Barney and Moira thrown into
the background by Father Owen himself, who held his little favorite
by the hand.
"A hundred thousand welcomes!" cried the priest, extending his
unoccupied hand to me. "So you have brought us back the old

Winifred, with a new varnish upon her that shines from afar. God be
praised that we're all here to greet you!"
The landlord, with an exclamation at their dilatoriness in serving
supper, entered the inn, while Father Owen and I moved apart for a
few moments. I wanted to tell him that Roderick would arrive in a
day or two.
"Thanks be to God!" he ejaculated. "Oh, what joy you have brought
upon the old house—you, under God! It is a privilege thus to make
others happy—the sweetest left us since the fall of Adam. But now I
mustn't keep you from your supper. We'll have many a long chat in
the days to come, and I just wanted to welcome you. I suppose
you'll go up this evening to Granny and Niall?"
"Indeed I will. But is Niall at the castle?" I asked.
"He is. Granny will tell you all," he answered.
And what a supper that was in the pleasant inn parlor, with the
blossoming trees peeping in at the windows and the Irish robins
singing our welcome! How savory tasted the trout from the stream,
fresh-caught; and the rasher of bacon, with snow-white oaten cake,
the freshest of fresh butter, and thick cream for our tea! What a walk
we had up through the hills that lovely evening! Winifred's eyes were
full of tears as I recalled to her memory the first time she had
brought me to the castle.
"Isn't it strange to think of all that has passed since then!" she
whispered, in a voice full of emotion.
But though changes there had been, there were none in the hills.
They preserved their immortal beauty, and the Glen of the Dargle
was as fairy-like as ever in its loveliness. At the castle, too, all was
the same. Granny sat calm and motionless by the great hearth, as
though she were under a spell; and Brown Peter mewed and purred
about her as of old. When we entered the room she rose uncertainly

from her chair. Her voice was plaintive and tremulous with the depth
of emotion as she cried out:
"Winifred alanna, is it yourself that's in it?"
Presently the child was clasped in her arms; and I stood by, content
to be forgotten. At last I asked:
"Where is Niall?"
"Barney will bring you to him," said the blind woman.
After a moment he led us to that very hall where the game of chess
had been played on the silver chessboard for the hand of a fair lady.
Here Niall had established himself, and I caught a glimpse of his tall
figure walking up and down. I remained without, and sent Winifred
in alone. I heard one inarticulate cry of joy, and then I walked away
to a distant end of the corridor, leaving the two together for a while.
When I returned and entered the hall, I found Niall seated in a high-
backed armchair, like some king of olden days. Winifred was upon
her knees beside him, leaning her head on his arm. He held out his
hand to me, and I was struck by his altered expression. Scarce a
trace of its former wildness remained; and his face shone with a
deep content, a radiating joy.
"Daughter of the stranger," he said, "you are one of us forever!
Whether your home be here amongst our hills or the stormy sea
divides us, it matters nothing."
"It is my intention to stay here," I announced, "amongst your lovely
scenes, and with you all, who have come so intimately into my
lonely life."

CHAPTER XXVI.
RODERICK RETURNS, AND ALL'S WELL THAT
ENDS WELL.
The great day of Roderick's home-coming dawned; and a glorious
one it was, as if Nature were in harmony with our joy. The birds
sang a perfect chorus in the early morning; the blossoming trees
never smelled so sweet, the hills never blended light and shade
more exquisitely, nor the streams reflected a bluer sky, than when
the car containing Roderick O'Byrne drove up to the inn. He sprang
out with a boyish lightness.
"Mr. Roderick O'Byrne," I exclaimed, "Nature is singing a perfect
hymn for your home-coming!"
"My heart is singing too," he replied. "All I love are here before me."
When we had cordially shaken hands, I said to him:
"Now be very practical and prosaic. Come in and have something to
eat."
"Oh, I couldn't!" he cried. "Let us go at once to them."
I saw his eyes wandering round in search of Winifred.
"Control your impatience just a little while longer," I observed, "and
take a sensible meal."
"More mystifications, more delays, O woman of many mysteries!"
"Only one," I explained. "I want you and Winifred to meet in the
Dargle; though she will probably think you have been evolved from
the ground by one of her favorite fairies."

He laughed.
"If it is your whim, I must submit; for you have been the goddess
behind the machine from the first. Continue to manage us puppets
as you will."
"Only for to-day," I replied merrily; "after that I shall disclaim all
power over you."
He followed me into the inn parlor, where the table was laid out;
and, having taken a slight repast, was eager to be up and away once
more. I had not told the landlord who my guest was, lest any hint of
his advent should prematurely get abroad; but I saw the worthy
man shading his eyes with his hand and peering at him, now coming
to the door and now retreating. At last, as we rose from table, he
burst in upon us.
"Ah, then, Master Roderick, is it yourself that's in it!" And he fell to
laughing almost hysterically as he seized and wrung the outstretched
hand, which Roderick, quick to respond to any touch of genuine
feeling, extended. He called the man by name, and began to recall
many a pleasant incident of boyhood's days. The delight of mine
host of the stony visage all but drew tears from my eyes. We
enjoined secrecy upon him; and then Roderick and I set off for the
Dargle, where I had bidden Winifred to wait for me.
"It is a lovely spot for such a meeting," I observed to Roderick as we
went.
"Lovely indeed," he answered. "My eyes have hungered for a sight
of it these ten years."
We walked on in silence toward it; Roderick taking off his hat that
the breeze might blow through his hair, and drinking in the beauty
around us with visible gratification.
"An exile's heart never warms in the land of the stranger," Roderick
declared presently. "There's something in the native air that
gladdens the soul."

"Now," I said, as we entered the beautiful glen, with its atmosphere
of poetry, its softened, delicate loveliness, "here it was I first met
Winifred, and here she shall meet you, and you can tell your tale
your own way."
I had arranged matters a little melodramatically; Winifred
unconsciously added to the effect by taking her seat upon her
favorite tree, and, out of the pure gladness of her heart, singing a
wild song full of trills and quavers like the notes of a bird. I slipped
away among the trees, and presently Roderick spoke. His voice was
soft and tender:
"Winifred asthore machree!"
Winifred looked at him long and strangely for a few seconds, then
she abandoned her perilous perch and came running down to him
swift as a bird upon the wing. Nature was speaking very loud in her
heart. Roderick stood waiting for her, holding out both his hands. He
took her slender ones and held them, looking at her with a long,
long look of tender affection; then, releasing his right hand, he took
from his watch chain a locket and opened it. Within, I learned later,
was a beautiful miniature on ivory. Winifred gave a swift, startled cry
of joy:
"The lady in yellow—oh, it is the beautiful lady!"
"And I am the dark gentleman, my little one," Roderick whispered.
"Do you know who he was?"
"Yes," said Winifred, looking up into his face: "he was my father."
"Have you forgiven him for being cross and slamming the door?"
She nodded gravely.
"And are you going to love him—to love me very much?"
For answer, Winifred threw her arms round his neck, weeping for
very joy.

At that moment I left them, and they followed slowly up to the
castle, Winifred clinging to her father's arm and telling him how she
had loved him almost from the first. And now a happy and complete
confidence was already established between them.
As they entered the kitchen, I was there with Granny, having
prepared her somewhat for what was to come. She arose, tottering
upon her feet and trembling.
"Son of my heart, Roderick avick!" she cried; and Roderick took the
old woman in his strong arms and clasped her close, whilst the tears
fell unheeded down his cheeks. Even the old woman's love for
Winifred had not been so great as this other love which she had so
long cherished in her heart of hearts.
"I can not see you, my boy," she whispered; "but beautiful as the
Mayflowers in the sun of morning is your coming, and gladdening to
my old heart as the first air of spring. Glory be to God and praise
and thanksgiving that I have been spared to see this day!"
Whilst she still spoke we heard a step coming along the stone
passage, and the tall figure of Niall entered the room. He advanced
straight to Roderick, and, to our amazement, he bent the knee.
"The O'Byrne has come home again!" he announced solemnly. "The
scion of the younger branch does him homage."
"What's that you're sayin' about the younger branch?" exclaimed
Granny, beginning to tremble again. "And who are you that talks
so?"
"I am Niall O'Byrne, the uncle of Roderick and of Winifred."
Winifred gave a cry of surprise, but poor Granny went on with the
same trembling uncertainty:
"And you've been alive all this time?"
"Certainly."

"You didn't take any shape?"
"Only that of the mad schoolmaster," Niall explained, with a grim
smile.
"So that's who he was, praise and glory to God!" cried the simple old
woman. "And I to be afeard of him when he'd come hauntin' the
house at all hours and goin' on with his quare ways! But sure I
might have known—indeed I might!"
Granny had known Niall in his younger days, before his departure for
the East; but after his mysterious return she, being blind, had never
been able to recognize him, and he had purposely kept her in
ignorance. She had therefore shared all the misgivings of the
countryside in regard to the treasure-seeker, who from the nature of
his pursuits had sought to conceal his identity.
The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks and he made more than
one vain attempt to speak; while Winifred patted his arm, saying:
"Don't cry, dear Niall—don't cry! We have my father back again."
At last, mastering his emotion by an effort, and looking into the
handsome, kindly face before him, Niall spoke:
"I knelt to you just now as to the head of our house, the
representative of the elder branch; but I should have knelt as a
penitent."
"A penitent!" repeated Roderick, in surprise.
"I deceived you, I caused you years of suffering!" cried Niall, in a
voice of overmastering agony. "But, oh, it was my love for you, for
her, for the old place, that urged me to it!"
"Such faults are easily pardoned," said Roderick, believing that the
old man was laboring under some delusion.
"Wait till you hear!" said Niall, almost sternly. "A judge must hear the
offence before he can pardon. 'Twas I who wrote to you that

Winifred was dead."
"You?" exclaimed Roderick, the most unbounded amazement
depicted on his face, and for a moment something of Niall's own
sternness clouding its good-humor. "Why should you have done that
to me?"
"Listen!" said Niall, extending one hand as if in supplication. "I heard
you had remarried in America, and that was a sad blow to my hopes
and dreams. You would never come back. Even if my plans
succeeded, you would never dwell in the old place. And then came
the agonizing thought that you would take Winifred away, and that
with me our very name would pass from Wicklow. I deliberately
deceived you. I withheld from Granny Meehan the letter you had
written her."
Granny made an exclamation of "God forgive you!" For she, too, had
suffered from that wrong.
"I caused your letters to the priest to miscarry; I did everything, in
short, to cut you off from communication with this place. And by
hints which I threw out, and vague messages which I sent through
Winifred to Mrs. Meehan, I filled her mind with a fear and distrust of
America and people coming from there. Oh, I remember what
anguish I endured when this lady first came into this region! I could
have killed her where she stood. I believed her to be the second
wife herself or some emissary from you come to spy upon us and
discover our secret."
Roderick stood all this time, his arms crossed upon his breast, a
proud look upon his face.
"And did you think all this of me?" he asked at last—"that I would
forget home and kindred, forget the wife who lies sleeping in Irish
soil, and, taking away my child, abandon you all forever? Ah, Niall,
you little knew me, after all!"

"But I had suffered, Roderick; sometimes my mind wandered,
perhaps, a little," pleaded the old man, pathetically. "There was a
confusion there; and I only knew that if Winifred went away, you
were both lost to me forever."
Roderick's face softened. His great generous heart touched by that
appeal, he cried out:
"Uncle, dear uncle, let us not talk of forgiveness, but only of your
long years of devotion to us all! We will speak no more of what is
painful. Now all is peace and joy."
Father Owen entered just at that moment, full of genial sympathy
and heartfelt, simple delight; and with his coming the reconciliation
was perfect. It took Winifred some time indeed to understand her
new relation to Niall; but she said that in any case she could not love
him any better, though she was glad he belonged to the old castle
and the old race.
The ornaments from Niall's cavern were disposed of to advantage,
and it was a great day when we all went with Roderick to the cavern
of the Phoul-a-Phooka to examine them. The gold was removed to a
bank; and, as Roderick had brought some considerable savings from
America, the work of restoration on the castle was begun. It was
not, of course, necessary or desirable that the whole edifice should
be restored to its pristine splendor; and some of the ruin remained
in all its picturesqueness as a show place for travelers. But the main
building was made both habitable and imposing. By some strange
convulsion of nature, the cavern in which Niall had concealed his
treasures, and where he had spent many a lonely night, was
destroyed. The rocks fell in, and then the mountain stream gushed
through it, sweeping away all trace of that singular abode.
Roderick's return, Winifred's identity as heiress of the O'Byrnes, and
Niall's kinship with the family, were publicly announced to the
village, all mysteries being at last cleared up. But the landlord voiced
public sentiment in confiding to me that the "good people" were

surely mixed up in the affair, and that it was the removal of the fairy
spell bewitching Niall, and perhaps Winifred, which had made all
come right.
Roderick was from the first the idol of the peasantry, to whom he
endeared himself in every possible manner. His warm Irish nature
had never grown cold by change or vicissitude, and he labored in a
hundred ways to improve the position of his people. He was still in
their eyes the handsome and high-spirited lad who had galloped
over the country on his white horse.
I became a fixture at the inn; though most of my time was spent at
the castle, where our little circle was often cheered by the presence
of Father Owen. Niall at times unbent into positive geniality; and as
we sat occasionally in homely fashion around the kitchen hearth,
that Granny might not be excluded from our conferences, and that
Barney and Moira might draw near unchecked, he told us many a
strange tale of his adventures as a gold-seeker. Sometimes he
brought us to the Far East, relating his inquiries into the occult arts
or the researches of alchemists; and again he led us, by many a
devious path, through the hills of his native Wicklow and along the
banks of its streams. Many of his accounts sounded like some
fabulous tale, a page from an old enchanter's book. Roderick, who
knew that gold, even to the amount of ten thousand pounds, had
been in former years found in Wicklow, and that mines under
government control had been established there, was far less
surprised than the rest of us had been that Niall had succeeded in
wresting a certain amount of treasure from the earth.
And Winifred was never again sent away to school. She had a
governess, and she had Niall to direct her studies, Roderick himself
taking an interest in them. Her pranks are still told as of yore; for—
pious, good, exemplary as she is in the main, and ruled absolutely
by her father, whose will to her is law—she has her outbursts of
petulance, and her old delight in playing a trick now and again on
the unwary; or she will mystify her nearest and dearest by indulging

in the unexpected; so that many there are who still know and love
her as Wayward Winifred.
Printed by Benziger Brothers, New York.

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