ough she was accustomed to praise.

'You are very kind,' she said. 'All my friends here are far too kind to
me. But come now, I must give you some tea.'

The tea was nearly stone cold and weak with frequent waterings. The
saucer and spoon, possibly even the cup, had been used by someone else
before. Mr. Maguire secured for himself the last remaining morsel of
cake, leaving Hyacinth the choice between a gingerbread biscuit and
a torn slice of bread and butter. None of these things appeared to
embarrass Miss O'Dwyer. They did not matter in the least to Hyacinth.

'Do you know the West well?' he asked.

'Indeed, I do not. I've always longed to go and spend a whole long
summer there, but I've never had the chance.'

'Then how did you know it was like that? I mean, how did you catch the
spirit of it in your poem?'

'Did I?' she said. 'I am so glad. But I don't deserve any credit for
it. I wrote those verses after I had been looking at one of Jim Tynan's
pictures. You know them, of course? No? Oh, but you must go and see them
at once if you love the West. And you do, don't you?'

'It is my home,' said Hyacinth.

When he had finished his tea she introduced him to some of the people
who were in the room. Afterwards he came to know them, but the memories
which Miss O'Dwyer's verses called up in him made him absent and
preoccupied. He scarcely heard the names she spoke. Soon the party broke
up, and Hyacinth turned to look for Maguire.

'I'm afraid Mr. Maguire has gone,' said Miss O'Dwyer. 'He has a lecture
to attend this afternoon. You must come here again, Mr. Conneally. Come
next Wednesday--every Wednesday, if you like. We can have a talk about
the West. I shall want you to tell me all sorts of things. Perhaps
Finola will be here next week. She very often comes. I shall look
forward to introducing you to her. You are sure to admire her immensely.
We all do.'

'Yes, I've heard of her,' said Hyacinth. 'Mr. Maguire told me who she
was.'

'Oh, but he couldn't have told you half. She is magnificent. All the
rest of us are only little children compared to her. Now be sure you
come and meet her.'

CHAPTER IV

Ever since Pitt and Castlerea perpetrated their Act of Union two
political parties have struggled together in Ireland. Both of them have
been steadily prominent, so prominent that they have sometimes attracted
the attention of the English public, and drawn to their contest a little
quite unintelligent inter