s older than she, had, since her recent return,
awakened to the fact that this difference in age had been mysteriously
obliterated, and that at present, Judith was not only his superior in
intelligence, but also in all those subsidiary matters in which age is
generally and erroneously believed to confer an advantage.

"If it had even been a good concert," Judith remarked, gobbling tea
and cake with a heartiness that, taken in connection with an admirable
complexion and very clear blue eyes, was in itself attractive to a
hungry young man, "I could have borne it better. But it was absolutely
deadly--all but just our own people's turns, of course--a sort of
lyrical geography--the map of Ireland set to music! Bantry Bay,
Killarney, the Mountains of Somewhere, the Waters of Somewhere else,
all Irish, of course! I get so sick of Ireland and her endearing young
charms--and all the entreaties to Erin to remember! As if she ever
forgot!"

"She remembers her enemies, all right," rejoined Bill Kirby, gloomily,
"but she forgets her friends! I know someone who hasn't got any
enemies to remember, but she's just like Ireland in one way!"

"What way?" demanded Judith, "and who do you mean?"

"You know very well who I mean! And the reason she is like Ireland is
that she forgets her friends! People who use to give her leads out
hunting when she was a little girl and never forgot _her_!"

"In the first place, I deny it, and in the second place, serves them
right if she does forget them," replied Judith tranquilly; "I don't
know the injured beings you refer to but I _do_ know my own
family. I take my eye off them for five minutes, and I come home to
find they have not only forgotten my existence, but they have plunged
into the heart of that appalling Cluhir crowd, and are indignant with
me--at least the boys and papa are--because I don't do the same!
Strange as it may appear, _I_ like nice people!"

"I wasn't talking of your family," said Bill Kirby morosely, "Hang it
all. _I'm_ quite a nice person, and haven't plunged into the
heart of Cluhir, but it's only by sort of accident, like this, that
you will ever say a word to me!"

"You'd better insure against accidents of this kind!" said Judith, who
was frankly enjoying herself; "and if you choose to renounce the
charms of Cluhir, you needn't make a virtue of it! Perhaps they don't
want you! They mayn't realise what a nice person you are! Would you
like me to explain to Tishy Mangan-