I said, "and therefore to be forgiven, but when did she know me?"
He replied, "As a boy at school; she said you would remember her by her Christian name of E . . . .". "Of course I do", I cried, "Oh! please tell me her name and where she lives. I'll call on her, I want (and then reflection came to suggest prudence) to ask her some questions", I added lamely.
"I can't give you her name or address", he replied, "I promised her not to, but she's long been happily married I was to tell you".
I pressed him but he remained obstinate, and on second thoughts I came to see that I had no right to push myself on a married woman who did not wish to renew acquaintance with me, but oh! I longed to see her and hear from her own lips the explanation of what to me at the time seemed her inexplicable, cruel change of attitude.
As a man, of course, I know she may have had a very good reason indeed, and her mere name still carries a glamour about it for me, an unforgettable fascination.
My father was always willing to encourage self reliance in me: indeed, he tried to make me act as a man while I was still a mere child. The Christmas holidays only lasted for four weeks; it was cheaper for me, therefore, to take lodgings in some neighboring town rather than return to Ireland. Accordingly the Headmaster received the request to give me some seven pounds for my expenses and he did so, adding moreover much excellent advice.
My first holiday I spent in the watering-place of Rhyl in North Wales because a chum of mine, Evan Morgan, came from the place and told me he'd make it interesting for me. And in truth he did a good deal to make me like the people and love the
