The Red Hand of Ulster

I had the blinds pulled down in order to soften the light. Bob's entrance had much the same effect as pulling up the blinds again. He brought the sunshine with him, not in the trying form of

quite pleased when Bob Power said that we ought not to sit indoors on so fine a day. Marion ran off to get her hat and joined us on the lawn. Bob Power led u

nd that stooping to gather them from beneath their nets tires me after a short time. Bob Power and Marion wandered far into the remoter parts of my strawberry bed. I stayed near the pathway. Their voices reached me and their laughter;

Ireland would be a much happier country if everybody in it kept fowls with long pedigrees. She must have been right about this, because the government paid her a small salary to go round the country saying it; and no government, not even ours, would pay people to say what is not true. Her plan for introducing the sup

bees have blood-should be not only indifferent but actually hostile to our human aristocracy. For years past animals of pedigree have been almost forced upon Ireland. Men of pedigree have as far as possible been discouraged from remaining in this country. This idea struck me as very suitable for one of my light

ing for you everywhere. Mr. Power and I

glad that they had found me, although I do not care for

much better wit

beat me in a single; but I think I'd have

nis deserves no more respectful treatment. I agreed to be a handicap, and I was a good one. Marion won the first set. I got exceedingly hot, but, up to the middle of the second set, I e

ss the chance of getting into touch, however remotely, with any one as rich as Conroy. Power eyed him with an expression of frank dislike. Godfrey, it seemed to me, did not much like Power. He was

Crossan. I could see that the thought of any one spending the day with Crossan outraged Godfrey's sense of decency. B

the street and I looked out. I could see lights on the yacht and

said Powe

ked questions. It must have been plain to Go

et coal in a p

how very unromantic! I th

ntelligence. He suspected Power of evil practices of so

you get the coa

tore. Crossan has a wonderful business instinct. He may have speculated on a visit from some large steamer and be ma

carts were loaded when they were going up the hill. They would have been empty if they had been going to

n. "I should love to have some French lace laid

al life the only people who try to cheat the nation out of its duty on la

in the middle of the

n the world which Godfrey will not find out if he is given time. A secret has the same attraction for

oal at night

dirt shows so much less at ni

rey, "I don't un

n a boat. I said good-bye firmly to Godfrey at the end of the pier. I was annoyed with him for cross-questioning our host at his own table. Marion and I walked home. Godfrey walked up the hill towards the co-operative store

conversation was not of a kind that was likely to be interesting either to McNeice or me. They were talking about ski-ing and skating in Switzerland. McNeice made no effort to talk at all. He sucked his soup into his mouth

een different theories about

voice to pour contempt on all attempts at investigating the early history of our national saint. He delayed our progress through dinner a good deal, because he would neither refuse nor help himself to the entrée which my

you have a theor

n republished, with notes, in pamphlet form, was reviewed by two German papers. I felt hurt by his ignoranc

e said, "why not devote it to living bishops inste

s of our existing bishops was new to

I said, "to build up an hypothesis abou

labour to build up an hyp

ed, "that if one did wa

oes," sai

n, "be much simpler

ano, which stands in a far-off corner of my rather oversized drawing-room. McNeice settled himself in front of the fire, his long legs straddled far apart, the bow of his white tie twisted under h

d if his hair will not grow any more than he can help being fat if his stomach will swell. Fatness was another of the accusations which McNeice hurled against the bishops. I suppose this violent hatred of an inoffensive class of men was partly the result of McNeice's tremendous Protestantism. The poet Milton, I think, felt in the

lose beside Lady Moyne when she was saying good-bye to the Dean

f ours; to mould it into an instrument for the preservation of social order. T

d in moulding McNeice into a weapon for her hand. It seemed to me more probable at the moment that McNeice would in

an enjoyable evening. I dare say McNeice enjoyed himself too. If so, my dinner-party was not given in vain. One cannot reasonably e