"How nice!" says Geoffrey, with a careless smile. "Your 'faint praise' fails 'to damn'! Why, one is nothing nowadays if not eccentric. Well," moving towards the door, with the fox-terrier at his heels, "I shall start on Monday. That will get me down in time for the 12th. Shall I send you up any birds?"
"Thanks, dear; you are always good," murmurs Lady Rodney, who has ever an eye to the main chance.
"If there are any," says Geoffrey, with a twinkle in his eye.
"If there are any," repeats she, unmoved.
CHAPTER II.
HOW GEOFFREY GOES TO IRELAND AND WHAT HE SEES THERE.
It is early morn. "The first low breath of waking day stirs the wide air." On bush and tree and opening flower the dew lies heavily, like diamonds glistening in the light of the round sun. Thin clouds of pearly haze float slowly o'er the sky to meet its rays; and
Envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
Geoffrey, with his gun upon his shoulder, trudges steadily onward rejoicing in the freshness of the morning air.