hearty murmur of assent ran round the table. It shot through
Gabriel's mind that Miss Ivors was not there and that she had gone away
discourteously: and he said with confidence in himself:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,

"A new generation is growing up in our midst, a generation actuated by
new ideas and new principles. It is serious and enthusiastic for
these new ideas and its enthusiasm, even when it is misdirected, is, I
believe, in the main sincere. But we are living in a sceptical and, if
I may use the phrase, a thought-tormented age: and sometimes I fear that
this new generation, educated or hypereducated as it is, will lack those
qualities of humanity, of hospitality, of kindly humour which belonged
to an older day. Listening tonight to the names of all those great
singers of the past it seemed to me, I must confess, that we were living
in a less spacious age. Those days might, without exaggeration, be
called spacious days: and if they are gone beyond recall let us hope, at
least, that in gatherings such as this we shall still speak of them with
pride and affection, still cherish in our hearts the memory of those
dead and gone great ones whose fame the world will not willingly let
die."

"Hear, hear!" said Mr. Browne loudly.

"But yet," continued Gabriel, his voice falling into a softer
inflection, "there are always in gatherings such as this sadder thoughts
that will recur to our minds: thoughts of the past, of youth, of
changes, of absent faces that we miss here tonight. Our path through
life is strewn with many such sad memories: and were we to brood upon
them always we could not find the heart to go on bravely with our work
among the living. We have all of us living duties and living affections
which claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavours.

"Therefore, I will not linger on the past. I will not let any gloomy
moralising intrude upon us here tonight. Here we are gathered together
for a brief moment from the bustle and rush of our everyday routine.
We are met here as friends, in the spirit of good-fellowship, as
colleagues, also to a certain extent, in the true spirit of camaraderie,
and as the guests of--what shall I call them?--the Three Graces of the
Dublin musical world."

The table burst into applause and laughter at this allusion. Aunt Julia
vainly asked each of her neighbours in turn to tell her what Gabriel had
said.

"He says we are the Three Graces, Aunt Julia," said Mary Jane.

Aunt Ju