nforced solitary companionship with this ruminator of a fellow set him
asking whether the godless dog he had picked up by the wayside was not
incarnate another of the sins he had to expiate. Day after day,
almost hourly, some new stroke fell on him. Why? Was he selected for
persecution because he was wealthy? The Fates were driving him in one
direction, no doubt of that.

This further black mood evaporated, and like a cessation of English
storm-weather bequeathed him gloom. Ashamed of the mood, he was
nevertheless directed by its final shadows to see the ruminating
tramp in Gower, and in Madge the prize-fighter's jilt: and round about
Esslemont a world eyeing an Earl of Fleetwood, who painted himself the
man he was, or was held to be, by getting together such a collection,
from the daughter of the Old Buccaneer to the ghastly corpse of Ambrose
Mallard. Why, clearly, wealth was the sole origin and agent of the
mischief. With somewhat less of it, he might have walked in his place
among the nation's elect, the 'herd of the gilt horns,' untroubled by
ambitions and ideas.

Arriving thus far, he chanced to behold Gower and Madge walking over the
grounds near the western plantation, and he regretted the disappearance
of them, with the fellow talking hard into the girl's ear. Those two
could think he had been of some use. The man pretending to philosophical
depth was at any rate honest; one could swear to the honesty of the
girl, though she had been a reckless hussy. Their humble little hopes
and means to come to union approached, after a fashion, hymning at his
ears. Those two were pleasanter to look on than amorous lords and great
ladies, who are interesting only when they are wicked.

Four days of desolate wanderings over the estate were occupied chiefly
in his decreeing the fall of timber that obstructed views, and was the
more imperatively doomed for his bailiff's intercession. 'Sound wood'
the trees might be: they had to assist in defraying the expense of
separate establishments. A messenger to Queeney from Croridge then
announced the Countess's return 'for a couple of hours.' Queeney said
it was the day when her ladyship examined the weekly bills of the
household. That was in the early morning. The post brought my lord a
letter from Countess Livia, a most infrequent writer. She had his word
to pay her debts; what next was she for asking? He shrugged, opened the
letter, and stared at the half dozen lines. The significat