of his own scanty wardrobe that
he could persuade himself to accept of Walpole's offer.

'After all,' he said, 'the loan of a dress-coat may be the turning-point of
a whole destiny. Junot sold all he had to buy a sword, to make his first
campaign; all I have is my shame, and here it goes for a suit of clothes!'
And, with these words, he rushed down to Walpole's dressing-room, and not
taking time to inspect and select the contents, carried off the box, as it
was, with him. 'I'll tell him all when I write,' muttered he, as he drove
away.

CHAPTER XXVI

DICK KEARNEY'S CHAMBERS

When Dick Kearney quitted Kilgobbin Castle for Dublin, he was very far from
having any projects in his head, excepting to show his cousin Nina that he
could live without her.

'I believe,' muttered he to himself, 'she counts upon me as another
"victim." These coquettish damsels have a theory that the "whole drama of
life" is the game of their fascinations and the consequences that come
of them, and that we men make it our highest ambition to win them, and
subordinate all we do in life to their favour. I should like to show her
that one man at least refuses to yield this allegiance, and that whatever
her blandishments do with others, with him they are powerless.'

These thoughts were his travelling-companions for nigh fifty miles of
travel, and, like most travelling-companions, grew to be tiresome enough
towards the end of the journey.

When he arrived in Dublin, he was in no hurry to repair to his quarters in
Trinity; they were not particularly cheery in the best of times, and now it
was long vacation, with few men in town, and everything sad and spiritless;
besides this, he was in no mood to meet Atlee, whose free-and-easy
jocularity he knew he would not endure, even with his ordinary patience.
Joe had never condescended to write one line since he had left Kilgobbin,
and Dick, who felt that in presenting him to his family he had done him
immense honour, was proportionately indignant at this show of indifference.
But, by the same easy formula with which he could account for anything in
Nina's conduct by her 'coquetry,' he was able to explain every deviation
from decorum of Joe Atlee's by his 'snobbery.' And it is astonishing how
comfortable the thought made him, that this man, in all his smartness and
ready wit, in his prompt power to acquire, and his still greater quickness
to apply knowledge, was after all a most consummate snob.