the Southern Hotel at Limerick Junction, and perhaps you can then
drive within sight of the Round Tower of Cashel. Then you can take
up the afternoon train and go to--let me see--how would you like
Buttevant? (Boutez en avant, you know, the 'Push forward' motto of
the Barrymores.) It's delightful, Penelope," she continued; "we'd
better get off, too. It is a garrison town, and there is a military
hotel. Then in the vicinity is Kilcolman, where Spenser wrote the
Faerie Queene: so there is the beginning of your literary
pilgrimage the very first day, without any plotting or planning.
The little river Aubeg, which flows by Kilcolman Castle, Spenser
called the Mulla, and referred to it as 'Mulla mine, whose waves I
whilom taught to weep.' That, by the way, is no more than our Jane
Grieve could have done for the rivers of Scotland. What do you say?
and won't you be a 'prood woman the day' when you sign the hotel
register 'Miss Peabody and maid, Salem, Mass., U.S.A'"

I thought most favourably of Buttevant, but on prudently inquiring
the guard's opinion, he said it was not a comfortable place for an
invalid lady, and that Mallow was much more the thing. At Limerick
Junction, then, we all alighted, and in the ten minutes' wait saw
Benella escorted up the hotel stairway by a sympathetic head waiter.

Detached from Salemina's fostering care and prudent espionage,
separated, above all, from the depressing Miss Dusenberry, we
planned every conceivable folly in the way of guidebook expeditions.
The exhilarating sense of being married, and therefore properly
equipped to undertake any sort of excursion with perfect propriety,
gave added zest to the affair in my eyes. Sleeping at Cork in an
Imperial Hotel was far too usual a proceeding,--we scorned it. As
the very apex of boldness and reckless defiance of common-sense, we