'I see that there is a great nobility in such loyalty, although I do not even wish to share it myself.

You see, I am an Irishman, and I want to see my country great and free.' 'I suppose,' said the Canon, 'that it is very natural that we should love the spot on earth in which we live.

I think that I love Ireland too.

But we must remember that our citizenship is in heaven, and it seems to me that any departure from the laws of the King of that country dishonours us, and even dishonours the earthly country which we call our own.' Hyacinth said nothing.

There flashed across him a recollection of Augusta Goold's hope that some final insult would one day goad the Irish Protestants into disloyalty.