_Ennui_ is another of her stories of Irish life, in which the supposed Earl of Glenthorn, after a long residence in England, returns to his Irish estates. The heroine of this tale is the old nurse, Ellinor O'Donoghoe. As the nurses of many stories are said to have done, she had substituted her own child for the rightful heir, and was frantic with joy when she saw him the master of Glenthorn Castle. Her devotion to the earl is pathetic, and her secret fears of the deception she had practised on the old earl may have prompted her strange speech that, if it pleased God, she would like to die on Christmas Day, of all days, "because the gates of heaven will be open all that day; and who knows but a body might slip in unbeknownst?" Ellinor is a woman of many virtues and many failings, but she is always pure Celt. How well contrasted are the two cousins, friends of Ormond, Sir Ulick O'Shane, a wily politician and a member of Parliament, and Mr. Cornelius O'Shane, King of the Black Islands, called by his dependents King Corny. The latter, bluff, generous, brave, open as the day, is yet a match for his crafty kinsman. Sir Ulick's visit to King Corny is a masterpiece. He has a purpose in his visit and a secret to guard, which King Corny is watching to discover. Sir Ulick has been bantering his kinsman on the old-fashioned customs observed on his estate and ridicules his method of ploughing: "'Your team, I see, is worthy of your tackle,' pursued Sir Ulick. 'A mule, a bull, and two lean horses. I pity the foremost poor devil of a horse, who must starve in the midst of plenty, while the horse, bull, and even mule, in a string behind him, are all plucking and munging away at their hay ropes.' "Cornelius joined in Sir Ulick's laugh, which shortened its duration. "''Tis comical ploughing, I grant,' said he, 'but still, to my fancy, anything's better and more profitable nor the tragi-comic ploughing you practise every sason in Dublin.' "'I?' said Sir Ulick. "'Ay, you and all your courtiers, ploughing the half-acre, continually pacing up and down that castle-yard, while you're waiting in attendance there. Every one to his own taste, but, "'If there's a man on earth I hate, Attendance and dependence be his fate.'" King Corny has been studying his diplomatic kinsman carefully to learn his secret, until the wily politician, by unnecessary caution in guarding it, overreaches himself, when King Corny exclaims to himself: "Woodcocked! That he has, as I foresaw he would." While the trained diplomat murmurs as he takes his leave, "All's safe." Native wit had got the better of artful cunning. And when Sir Ulick dies in disgrace, how pithy is the remark of one of the men, as he is filling in the grave: "There lies the making of an excellent gentleman--but the cunning of his head spoiled the goodness of his heart."