bounder called McNeice. They
were drinking bottled stout in the cabin with Crossan."

"Under those circumstances," I said, "you did not, I suppose, leave my
cards."

Godfrey has a standing feud with Crossan, who is not a gentleman and
does not pretend to be. Godfrey, judged by any rational standard, is
even less of a gentleman; but as the future Lord Kilmore he belongs to
the ranks of an aristocracy and therefore has a contempt for Crossan.
The two come into very frequent contact and quite as frequent
conflict. Crossan manages the co-operative store which I started, and
Godfrey regards him as one of my servants. Crossan, who has a fine
instinct for business, also manages the commercial side of our local
mackerel fishing. Godfrey thinks he would manage this better than
Crossan does. Their latest feud was concerned with the service of
carts which take the fish from our little harbour to the nearest
railway station. Crossan is politically a strong Protestant and an
Orangeman of high attainment. Godfrey has no particular religion, and
in politics belongs to that old-fashioned school of Conservatives who
think that the lower orders ought to be respectful to their betters.
Crossan having been taught the Church Catechism in his youth, admits
this respect as theoretical duty; but gets out of performing it in
practice by denying that Godfrey, or for the matter of that any one
else, is his better. Godfrey's constant complaints about Crossan are
the thorns which remind me that I must not regard my lot in life as
altogether pleasant. I felt justified in assuming that Godfrey had not
left my cards on men who degraded themselves so far as to drink
bottled stout in company with Crossan.

I was wrong. Godfrey did leave my cards. I can only suppose that his
respect for the private secretary of a millionaire was stronger than
his dislike of Crossan. He had even, it appeared, invited both Power
and McNeice to view my "menagerie." For this he felt it necessary to
offer some excuse.

"He is one of the Powers of Kilfenora," he said, "so I thought it
would be no harm. By the way, Marion, what are you going to wear? I
should say that your blue _crepe de chine_--"

Godfrey is something of an expert in the matter of woman's clothes.
Marion, I know, frequently consults him and values his opinion highly.
Unfortunately the subject bores me. I cut him short with a remark
which was intended for a snub.

"I hope you have a new suit yourself,