THE EDITOR S STORY. 141 



her ! There is a subject for three volumes for 

 you at once." 



" I should be sorry to marry in Ireland. 

 Irish ladies, I understand " 



A little nod of the head, half satirical and 

 half coquettish, warned me off the blunder I 

 was about to make. 



" But I didn't think you were Irish." 



" Yes, quite Irish ; and very proud of the 

 fact, I assure you." 



I hastened at once to apologize for the tone 

 in which I had spoken. She took my ex- 

 planation in the best good-humour. 



The bay of Dublin was now opening before 

 us, and I can at this moment call to mind the 

 loveliness of that summer morning : the deep 

 emerald tinge of the sea, the Wicklow hills, 

 like purple clouds in the distance, the heavy- 

 eyed gulls floating curiously across, and some- 

 times getting tangled in the smoke and seeming 

 to dissolve in it to the size of white butterflies. 

 There were as yet very few people on deck ; but 

 the quay draws nigh, and one by one the 

 passengers appear. 



" I think I had better say good-bye to you 



