, your own people, and your own country?"

"O, to tell you the truth," retorted Gabriel suddenly, "I'm sick of my
own country, sick of it!"

"Why?" asked Miss Ivors.

Gabriel did not answer for his retort had heated him.

"Why?" repeated Miss Ivors.

They had to go visiting together and, as he had not answered her, Miss
Ivors said warmly:

"Of course, you've no answer."

Gabriel tried to cover his agitation by taking part in the dance with
great energy. He avoided her eyes for he had seen a sour expression on
her face. But when they met in the long chain he was surprised to feel
his hand firmly pressed. She looked at him from under her brows for a
moment quizzically until he smiled. Then, just as the chain was about to
start again, she stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear:

"West Briton!"

When the lancers were over Gabriel went away to a remote corner of the
room where Freddy Malins' mother was sitting. She was a stout feeble old
woman with white hair. Her voice had a catch in it like her son's and
she stuttered slightly. She had been told that Freddy had come and that
he was nearly all right. Gabriel asked her whether she had had a good
crossing. She lived with her married daughter in Glasgow and came to
Dublin on a visit once a year. She answered placidly that she had had a
beautiful crossing and that the captain had been most attentive to her.
She spoke also of the beautiful house her daughter kept in Glasgow, and
of all the friends they had there. While her tongue rambled on Gabriel
tried to banish from his mind all memory of the unpleasant incident with
Miss Ivors. Of course the girl or woman, or whatever she was, was an
enthusiast but there was a time for all things. Perhaps he ought not
to have answered her like that. But she had no right to call him a West
Briton before people, even in joke. She had tried to make him ridiculous
before people, heckling him and staring at him with her rabbit's eyes.

He saw his wife making her way towards him through the waltzing couples.
When she reached him she said into his ear:

"Gabriel. Aunt Kate wants to know won't you carve the goose as usual.
Miss Daly will carve the ham and I'll do the pudding."

"All right," said Gabriel.

"She's sending in the younger ones first as soon as this waltz is over
so that we'll have the table to ourselves."

"Were you dancing?" asked Gabriel.

"Of course I was. Didn't you see me? What row had you with Molly Ivors?"