came between them.
In 1880, Frank, the elder, was two-and-twenty. The two girls who
followed close after were twenty and nineteen, and the youngest boy,
who was born after an interval of nearly ten years, was but ten years
old. Some years after the mother had died, and Mr. Jones had since
lived as a widower. It may be as well to state here that in 1880 he
was fifty-five years old.

When his wife had died, the nature of the man had apparently been
changed. Of all men he had been the most cheerful, the most eager,
and the most easily pleased. He had worked hard at his property, and
had loved his work. He knew every man and woman about the place, and
always had a word to say to them. He had had a sailing boat on the
lake, in which he had spent much of his time, but his wife had always
been with him. Since her death he had hardly put his foot within the
boat. He had lately become quick and short-tempered, but always with
a visible attempt to be kind to those around him. But people said
of him that since his wife had died he had shown an indifference to
the affairs of the world. He was anxious--so it was said--to leave
matters as much as possible to his son; but, as has been already
stated, his son was only twenty-two. He had formerly taken a great
pleasure in attending the assizes at Galway. He had been named as a
grand juror for the county, which he had indeed regarded as a great
compliment; but since his wife's death he had not once attended.

People said of him that he had become indifferent to the work of
his life, but in this they hardly spoke the truth. He had become
indifferent rather to what had been its pleasures. To that which his
conscience told him was its work, he applied himself with assiduity
enough. There were two cares which sat near his heart: first, that no
one should rob him; and secondly, that he should rob no one. It will
often be the case that the first will look after itself, whereas the
second will require careful watching. It was certainly the case with
Philip Jones that he was most anxious to rob no one. He was, perhaps,
a little too anxious that no one should rob him.

A few words must be said of his children. Frank, the eldest, was
a good-looking, clever boy, who had been educated at the Queen's
College, at Galway, and would have been better trained to meet the
world had circumstances enabled him to be sent to a public school
in England. As it was he thought himself, as heir to Morony Castle