lowers; lappets in all sorts of curli-murlis;
long hoods are worn close under the chin; the ear-rings go round the
neck(!), and tie with bows and ends behind. Night-gowns are worn without
hoops.'

Part Second--Munster.

Chapter VII. A tour and a detour.

'"An' there," sez I to meself, "we're goin' wherever we go,
But where we'll be whin we git there it's never a know
I'll know."'
Jane Barlow.

We had planned to go direct from Dublin to Valencia Island, where there
is not, I am told, 'one dhry step 'twixt your fut an' the States';
but we thought it too tiring a journey for Benella, and arranged for a
little visit to Cork first. We nearly missed the train owing to the
late arrival of Salemina at the Kingsbridge station. She had been buying
malted milk, Mellin's Food, an alcohol lamp, a tin cup, and getting all
the doctor's prescriptions renewed.

We intended, too, to go second or third class now an then, in order to
study the humours of the natives, but of course we went 'first' on this
occasion on account of Benella. I told her that we could not follow
British usage and call her by her surname. Dusenberry was too long and
too--well, too extraordinary for daily use abroad.

"P'r'aps it is," she assented meekly; "and still, Mis' Beresford, when
a man's name is Dusenberry, you can't hardly blame him for wanting his
child to be called by it, can you?"

This was incontrovertible, and I asked her middle name. It was Frances,
and that was too like Francesca.

"You don't like the sound o' Benella?" she inquired. "I've always set
great store by my name, it is so unlikely. My father's name was Benjamin
and my mother's Ella, and mine is made from both of 'em; but you can
call me any kind of a name you please, after what you've done for me,"
and she closed her eyes patiently.

'Call me Daphne, call me Chloris,
Call me Lalage or Doris,
Only, only call me thine,'

which is exactly what we are not ready to do, I thought, in a poetic
parenthesis.

Benella looks frail and yet hardy. She has an unusual and perhaps
unnecessary amount of imagination for her station, some native
common-sense, but limited experience; she is somewhat vague and
inconsistent in her theories of life, but I am sure there is vitality,
and energy too, in her composition, although it has been temporarily
drowned in the Atlantic Ocean. If she were a cl