hy, with a taste for
literature, and, I think, a moderate amount of benevolent feeling
towards those of my fellow-men who do not annoy me in any way. I sold
the estate, which had long before ceased to be in any real sense my
property, immediately after the passing of the Land Act of 1903. I
have lived since then chiefly in Kilmore Castle, a delightfully
situated residence built by my grandfather, which suits me very well
indeed. I have occupied my time for years back in gathering materials
for a history of all the Irish rebellions there have ever been. My
daughter Marion used to help me in this work, by filing and
classifying the various slips of paper on which I made notes. Now that
she has got married and cannot help me any more I have given up the
idea of finishing my great work. I am satisfying my evil itch for
writing by setting down an account of the short struggle between
north-eastern Ulster and the rest of the British Empire.

The 5th of June was the day on which I first met Bob Power, first came
into contact with McNeice, and first set eyes on the notorious
_Finola_. It was the day fixed by my nephew Godfrey D'Aubigny for the
first, for that year, of the series of garden-parties which I give
annually. I detest these festivities, and I have every reason to
believe that they must be quite as objectionable to my guests as they
are to me. It is Godfrey who insists on their being held. He holds
that I am bound to do some entertaining in order to keep up my
position in the county. I am not in the least interested in my
position in the county; but Godfrey is, and, of course, the matter is
of some importance to him. He is heir to my title. I used to think and
he used to think that he would ultimately enjoy my income too,
securing it by marrying my daughter Marion. I am glad to say he has
not succeeded in doing this. Marion has married a much better man.

I was sitting in my study after breakfast, fiddling with my papers,
but unable to settle down to work. The prospect of the party in the
afternoon depressed and irritated me. Godfrey entered the room
suddenly through the window. The fact that he is my heir does not seem
to me to entitle him to come upon me like a thief in the night. He
ought to go to the door of the house, ring the bell, and ask if I am
willing to see him.

"Good morning, Excellency," he said, "glorious day, isn't it?"

Godfrey always addressed me as "Excellency." I cannot imagine why he
does so.