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 "Norah! my darlin', it isn't that. Ye've always been the good and dutiful daughter to me; an' in all your pretty life there's not wan thing I wish undone or unsaid. But I'm older than you, daughter, an' I know more iv the world; an' what I say, is best for ye—now, and in yer future. I'm goin' to live wid Eugene; an' afther a while I suppose I, too, 'll be somethin' different from what I am. An' thin, whin I've lived awhile in a city, and got somethin' of city ways, I'll come an' see ye, maybe. Ye must remimber, that it's not only of you we've to think, but of th' other girls in the school. I don't want to have any of them turnin' up their noses at ye—that's not the way to get the best out iv school, me dear; for I suppose school is like everywhere else in the world—the higher ye're able to hould yer head, the more others'll look up to ye!"

His words were so obviously true, that not one of us had a word to say, and the matter was acquiesced in ''nem. con.'' I myself got leave to accompany the party as far as London—but not beyond. It was further arranged that Joyce should take his daughter to Galway, to get some clothes for her—just enough to take her to Paris—and that when in Paris she should have a full outfit under the direction of Madame LepechauxLepecheaux [sic]. They were to leave on Friday, so as to have the Saturday in Galway; and as Norah wanted to say good-bye on the Sunday to old schoolfellows and friends in the convent, they would return on Monday, the 25th October. Accordingly, on the morning after next, Joyce took a letter