ing himself
into frequent fevers.

The Archdeacon dined with us a short time before I left home and gave me
a very fine valedictory address. He said that I was about to follow the
example of my ancestors and devote myself to the service of my country.
He had every hope that I would acquit myself as nobly as they did. This
was a very affecting thing to say, particularly in our dining-room,
with the pictures of my grandfather's battles hanging round the walls.
I looked at them while he spoke, but I did not venture to look at my
mother. Her eyes have a way of twinkling when the Archdeacon is at
his best which always upsets me. The Archdeacon, his face still raised
toward the large battle picture, added that there is nothing finer
than the service of one's country, nothing more inspiring for a man and
nothing more likely to lead to fame. I felt at the time that this is
very likely to be true in the case of any one who has a country to
serve. I, unfortunately, have none. The recent developments of Irish
life, the revivals of various kinds, the books which people keep on
writing, and the general atmosphere of the country have robbed me and
others like me of the belief, held comfortably by our fathers, that we
are Englishmen. On the other hand, nobody, least of all the patriotic
politicians who make speeches, will admit that we are Irish. We are
thus, without any fault of our own, left poised in a state of quivering
uncertainty like the poor Samaritans whom the Jews despised as Gentiles
and the Gentiles did not like because they seemed to be Jews. I found
it difficult, while I listened to the Archdeacon, to decide what
country had a claim on me for service. Perhaps Portugal--I was going to
Lisbon--would mark me for her own.

For more than three years I saw nothing of Lalage. My holidays, snatched
with difficulty from a press of ridiculously unimportant duties, never
corresponded with hers. I heard very little of her. The Canon never
wrote to me at all about Lalage or anything else. My mother merely
chronicled her scholastic successes, which included several prizes for
English composition.

The one really interesting piece of information which I got about
her came, curiously enough, from the Archdeacon. He wrote to me for a
subscription to a fund for something, rebuilding the bishop's palace
I think. At the end of his letter he mentioned an incident in Lalage's
career which he described as deplorable. It appeared that a cler