"Oh, a painter first," said Larry, responding with alacrity, as do most people, to the stimulus of discussing himself; "but not exclusively. I shouldn't mind having the hounds for a bit, and I should like to travel--the gorgeous East, you know--that sort of thing. And I must say," he hesitated, "I'm rather keen to have a shot at politics." He put down his palette and brushes and began to roll a cigarette, while he walked backwards away from his easel, staring alternately at his canvas and his model. "Have you forgotten that I'm the prospective candidate for this constituency? The Home Rule ticket, you know!" He looked at his audience with a touch of defiance; "I don't know what _you_ may think--_my_ notion is--" The prospective candidate launched forth into a statement of his notions; what, precisely, they were, is a matter that may here be omitted. The kaleidoscope of Irish politics has made many new patterns since Larry outlined his views for Christian, and the pattern of 1907 interests us no more. The affinity that exists between politics and eggs is not limited to the function of the latter in emphasising criticism of the former; it also extends to individual characteristics. The morning newspaper and the morning egg should be equally recent. Larry's political notions, when he stated them, had at least the merit of freshness, and it shall be left to them. Christian, listening to his ambitions, felt herself older than ever. "I think I should be a painter all the time, and let Bill keep the hounds for me," she said, indulgently, "and I certainly should _not_ play with politics--I'm certain you'd hate them." "Well, but I'm pledged, you know! I'm absolutely in honour bound to play up if I'm wanted--" "Whether you know the game or no?" said Christian, mockingly. "Very sporting! I'm _not_ a Home Ruler, as it happens. I've no breadth of outlook! _I_ haven' been in France for four years!" "You're a reactionary!" declared Larry; "I tell you Self-Government is in the air!" With all her suppleness of mind, Christian had in her something of the inbred obstinacy of fidelity that often goes with long descent. Her colour rose. "_We_ have always stood for the King!" she said, holding up her head, and looking past Larry to the high, sailing clouds. Larry began to laugh. "Christian! It's awfully becoming to you to talk politics! Keep quite quiet and I'll make a study of you as Britannia--or Joan of Arc--" It was characteristic of these young people, that in the heat of political argument they joined battle as freely as if no other point of contact existed for them. This it is to be born and bred in Ireland, where people live their opinions, and everyone is a patriot with a different point of view, and politics are a hereditary disease, blatant as a port-wine mark, and persistent as a family nose.