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misstake. I am ashamed of nothing I say or do. So you may see me with whom you like, when you like. Wretched man! if I did not think that all law was Tyrrany I would have you put in goal. If you approach me personally I will punch you on the nose.
     
    Farewell and beware
    HUMPHREY EDWYN HONYEL PAXTON.
     
    Miss Margaret Liberty to Miss Agnes Hopper
    MY DEAR AGNES, – I am writing to excuse myself, with many apologies, from what I am sure will be a most delightful Mah Jong party on Friday. The fact is – I am going for a holiday – and to the West of Ireland! I leave on Thursday! And this means such a terrible rush !
    You will wonder how this has come about. Well, when my brother, Sir Charles, came to see me a short time ago it appeared to him that I was (only, I am sure, ever so slightly) run down , and he recommended the change and was so very generous as to provide for the financial side. You will appreciate the thoughtfulness of this the more when I tell you that my brother’s work is now extremely important and most confidential – and so absorbing that it is really charming of him to give such thought to the happiness and health of an elderly spinster sister. Were my dear father, Sir Herbert, alive he would, I am sure, be proud of his equally distinguished son . Woollens are the problem, even at this time of year, and particularly when one is going abroad. I am sure to be particularly interested in everything I find in Eire, as my father, a truly liberal man, was a great supporter of the late Mr Gladstone. And on the literary side there will be, I believe, views of Slieve League, Ben Bulben, and other places most romantically associated with Allingham, Mr Yeats, and other wonderful Irish writers.
    In great haste from one who is about to go out and hunt for woollen stockings (! !) and who remains,
     
    Your affectionate friend,
    MARGARET LIBERTY.
     
    Captain Cox to Miss Joyce Vane
    DEAR JOYCE, – I’m terribly sorry I shan’t be seeing you for some time, as on Thursday I’m off to Ireland with a kid who sounds a bit of a handful all round. This is a terrible bore! I’ve been making inquiries since I got the job and it appears that the lad’s father is a terrible scientific swell. He has a laboratory in which he cracks atoms much as you and I might crack nuts when lucky enough to be having one of our jolly dinners together. Perhaps this is why the lad is insisting on taking me to see a film with atom bombs in it just before we leave. It’s called Plutonium Blonde. But there is only one blonde for me and I will see her again as soon as I can.
     
    Love,
    PETER.
     
    Ivor Bolderwood to Cyril Bolderwood, Killyboffin Hall, Co. Donegal
    MY DEAR DAD, – I shall be returning by Stranraer tomorrow night, nearly everything here being satisfactorily cleared up, I am glad to say. Meanwhile this ought to catch this evening’s plane and let you have one piece of news. I called on cousin Paxton and expressed the hope that, being now more settled on this side of the world, we might a little better our acquaintance with him. Bernard is very much the great man (as is right and proper) but perhaps a little lacking in the simplicity of life and manner which one likes to think of as attaching to genius. He is – as we rather expected – unable to visit us this summer, having very important researches in hand. I was of course sorry about this but at the same time a shade relieved – suspecting that when he does go into the wilds it is to do all the orthodox things during the day, and to express complete rustication of an evening by donning nothing more elaborate than a boiled shirt and a black tie. But he did accept your invitation for his only boy, Humphrey, who will be crossing with a tutor on Thursday. Humphrey is of public-school age and will presumably want to fish and perhaps shoot. Billy will no doubt be able to do something about that. Bernard hinted darkly that Humphrey is something of a handful, and indeed that he