“The old manor house was shockingly out of repair, but because it was the best building on the estate it was occupied by my father’s land steward, O’Nally, and his wife. “These two had been old servants of my mother’s family, and had been very much devoted to her. “After my father’s arrival with me at the house they also acted in the capacity of butler and housekeeper. “My father had brought with him a valet and a groom, and for me a nurse and a governess. “I was very warmly welcomed and fondly caressed by my mother’s old servants, and so for the first few days I was very happy at Weirdwaste. “We had no neighbors but the poor tenantry in the huts, on the waste behind the manor house. “And we saw no company but the vicar of the little Protestant parish, in the village of Bantrim, ten miles inland, and the county practitioner from the same place. “These two old men remain strong, clear portraits in the gallery of my memory. “The vicar, Mr. Clement, was a large, fair, clean-shaved, bald-headed old gentleman, with blue eyes and a beaming smile. He was very, very good to me, and I soon learned to love him. “The medical practitioner, Dr. Alexander, was a tall, gaunt, high-nosed, red-faced man, with a shock of iron-gray hair and whiskers; a formidable frown and a brusque manner. He also was very, very kind to me, but I never got over my fear of him. “My father did not intend to remain at Weirdwaste, as I soon found out. He had the vicar and doctor come and spend the day and dine at the house, so that they might see the child who was to be left at Weirdwaste under their joint care. “The doctor pronounced me a wonderfully sound and healthy child, who would grow finely in the pure, invigorating air of the seaside. The doctor promised to look after my health, and the vicar to superintend my education. And both engaged to write frequently and keep my father advised as to my welfare. “So, having taken every precaution he thought necessary to my well-being, and having settled the urgent business that brought him to Ireland, my father bade me good-by, and left Weirdwaste to travel on the Continent. “And then began the loneliest life ever led by motherless child. “O’Nally and his wife were an old couple. They kept two old servants—a woman, who did the housework; and a man, who did the outdoor work. And they kept an old horse and an old jaunting car. “My nurse was a respectable, elderly matron; my governess, a discreet, middle-aged maiden, selected by my father especially for good qualities. Surely I had all the care and protection that was needed. But I had no love, no play, no amusement, no companions. Even the warm-hearted peasant women, who had come down from their huts on the waste to welcome their little lady of the manor, came no more after that first day—not that they had ceased to care for me, but because the occasion of their coming had passed, and their hard work kept them all at home.