fail with them just as he had failed with the girl in the pantry. He had taken up a wrong tone. His whole speech was a mistake from first to last, an utter failure.

Just then his aunts and his wife came out of the ladies’ dressing-room. His aunts were two small, plainly dressed old women. Aunt Julia was an inch or so the taller. Her hair, drawn low over the tops of her ears, was grey; and grey also, with darker shadows, was her large flaccid face. Though she was stout in build and stood erect, her slow eyes and parted lips gave her the appearance of a woman who did not know where she was or where she was going. Aunt Kate was more vivacious. Her face, healthier than her sister’s, was all puckers and creases, like a shrivelled red apple, and her hair, braided in the same old-fashioned way, had not lost its ripe nut colour.

They both kissed Gabriel frankly. He was their favourite nephew, the son of their dead elder sister, Ellen, who had married T. J. Conroy of the Port and Docks.

‘Gretta tells me you’re not going to take a cab back to Monkstown tonight, Gabriel,’ said Aunt Kate.

‘No,’ said Gabriel, turning to his wife, ‘we had quite enough of that last year, hadn’t we? Don’t you remember, Aunt Kate, what a cold Gretta got out of it? Cab windows rattling all the way, and the east wind blowing in after we passed Merrion. Very jolly it was. Gretta caught a dreadful cold.’

Aunt Kate frowned severely and nodded her head at every word.

‘Quite right, Gabriel, quite right,’ she said. ‘You can’t be too careful.’

‘But as for Gretta there,’ said Gabriel, ‘she’d walk home in the snow if she were let.’

Mrs. Conroy laughed.

‘Don’t mind him, Aunt Kate,’ she said. ‘He’s really an awful bother, what with green shades for Tom’s eyes at night and making him do the dumb-bells, and forcing Eva to eat the stirabout. The poor child! And she simply hates the sight of it! … O, but you’ll never guess what he makes me wear now!’

She broke out into a peal of laughter and glanced at her husband, whose admiring and happy eyes had been wandering from her dress to her face and hair. The two aunts laughed heartily, too, for Gabriel’s solicitude was a standing joke with them.

‘Goloshes!’ said Mrs. Conroy. ‘That’s the latest. Whenever it’s wet underfoot I must put on my goloshes. Tonight even, he wanted me to put them on, but I wouldn’t. The next thing he’ll buy me will be a diving suit.’

Gabriel laughed nervously and patted his tie reassuringly, while Aunt Kate nearly doubled herself, so heartily did she enjoy the joke. The smile soon faded from Aunt Julia’s face and her mirthless eyes were directed towards her nephew’s face. After a pause she asked:

‘And what are goloshes, Gabriel?’

‘Goloshes, Julia!’ exclaimed her sister. ‘Goodness me, don’t you know what goloshes are? You wear them over your … over your boots, Gretta, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Conroy. ‘Gutta-percha things. We both have a pair now. Gabriel says everyone wears them on the Continent.’

‘O, on the Continent,’ murmured Aunt Julia, nodding her head slowly.

Gabriel knitted his brows and said, as if he were slightly angered:


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