Queenstown, leaving parties of old men and women wailing with
anguish on the platform. At one place an old woman was seized with
such a passion of regret, when she saw her daughters moving away
from her for ever, that she made a wild rush after the train and
when I looked out for a moment I could see her writhing and
struggling on the platform, with her hair over her face, and two men
holding her by the arms.

Two young men had got into our compartment for a few stations only,
and they looked on with the greatest satisfaction.

'Ah,' said one of them, 'we do have great sport every Friday and
Saturday, seeing the old women howling in the stations.'

When we reached Dublin I left my charge for a moment to see after my
baggage, and when I came back I found her sitting on a luggage
barrow, with her package in her hand, crying with despair because
several cabmen had refused to let her into their cabs, on the
pretext that they dreaded infection.

I could see they were looking out for some rich tourist with his
trunks, as a more lucrative fare; so I sent for the head-porter, who
had charge of the platform. When the porter arrived we chose a cab,
and I saw my charge driven off to her hospital, sitting on the front
seat, with her handkerchief to her eyes.

For the last few days--I am staying in the Kerry cottage I have
spoken of already--the people have been talking of horse-races that
were to be held on the sand, not far off and this morning I set out
to see them with the man and woman of the house and two of their