The illusion of objectivity which he so successfully achieves is due to the fact that his mind was so perfectly contented with its hereditary and circumstantial conditions, was itself so perfectly the mental equivalent of those conditions. Thus the perfection of his egotism, tight as a drum, saved him. Had it been a little less complete, he would have faltered and bungled; as it was, he had the naive certainty of a child, to whose innocent apprehension the world and self are one, and who therefore cannot err. ALGAR THOROLD. CONTENTS I. THE BARONY OF DESMOND. II. OWEN FITZGERALD. III. CLARA DESMOND. IV. THE COUNTESS. V. THE FITZGERALDS OF CASTLE RICHMOND. VI. THE KANTURK HOTEL, SOUTH MAIN STREET, CORK. VII. THE FAMINE YEAR. VIII. GORTNACLOUGH AND BERRYHILL. IX. FAMILY COUNCILS. X. THE RECTOR OF DRUMBARROW AND HIS WIFE. XI. SECOND LOVE. XII. DOUBTS. XIII. MR. MOLLETT RETURNS TO SOUTH MAIN STREET. XIV. THE REJECTED SUITOR. XV. DIPLOMACY. XVI. THE PATH BENEATH THE ELMS. XVII. FATHER BARNEY. XVIII. THE RELIEF COMMITTEE. XIX. THE FRIEND OF THE FAMILY. XX. TWO WITNESSES. XXI. FAIR ARGUMENTS. XXII. THE TELLING OF THE TALE. XXIII. BEFORE BREAKFAST AT HAP HOUSE. XXIV. AFTER BREAKFAST AT HAP HOUSE. XXV. A MUDDY WALK ON A WET MORNING. XXVI. COMFORTLESS. XXVII. COMFORTED. XXVIII. FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT. XXIX. ILL NEWS FLIES FAST. XXX. PALLIDA MORS. XXXI. THE FIRST MONTH. XXXII. PREPARATIONS FOR GOING. XXXIII. THE LAST STAGE. XXXIV. FAREWELL. XXXV. HERBERT FITZGERALD IN LONDON. XXXVI. HOW THE EARL WAS WON. XXXVII. A TALE OF A TURBOT. XXXVIII. CONDEMNED. XXXIX. FOX-HUNTING IN SPINNY LANE. XL. THE FOX IN HIS EARTH. XLI. THE LOBBY OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. XLII. ANOTHER JOURNEY. XLIII. PLAYING ROUNDERS. XLIV. CONCLUSION. CHAPTER I. THE BARONY OF DESMOND. I wonder whether the novel-reading world--that part of it, at least, which may honour my pages--will be offended if I lay the plot of this story in Ireland! That there is a strong feeling against things Irish it is impossible to deny. Irish servants need not apply; Irish acquaintances are treated with limited confidence; Irish cousins are regarded as being decidedly dangerous; and Irish stories are not popular with the booksellers.