this time Smith, being an excellent man of business, was well up in
the service of his bank--as yet only a clerk, it is true, but one who
drew his four hundred pounds a year, with prospects. In short, he was in
a position to marry had he wished to do so. As it happened, he did not
wish--perhaps because, being very friendless, no lady who attracted him
crossed his path; perhaps for other reasons.

Shy and reserved in temperament, he confided only in himself. None, not
even his superiors at the bank or the Board of Management, knew how
well off he had become. No one visited him at the flat which he was
understood to occupy somewhere in the neighbourhood of Putney; he
belonged to no club, and possessed not a single intimate. The blow which
the world had dealt him in his early days, the harsh repulses and the
rough treatment he had then experienced, sank so deep into his sensitive
soul that never again did he seek close converse with his kind. In fact,
while still young, he fell into a condition of old-bachelorhood of a
refined type.

Soon, however, Smith discovered--it was after he had given up
speculating--that a man must have something to occupy his mind. He tried
philanthropy, but found himself too sensitive for a business which
so often resolves itself into rude inquiry as to the affairs of other
people. After a struggle, therefore, he compromised with his conscience
by setting aside a liberal portion of his income for anonymous
distribution among deserving persons and objects.

While still in this vacant frame of mind Smith chanced one day, when the
bank was closed, to drift into the British Museum, more to escape the
vile weather that prevailed without than for any other reason. Wandering
hither and thither at hazard, he found himself in the great gallery
devoted to Egyptian stone objects and sculpture. The place bewildered
him somewhat, for he knew nothing of Egyptology; indeed, there remained
upon his mind only a sense of wonderment not unmixed with awe. It must
have been a great people, he thought to himself, that executed these
works, and with the thought came a desire to know more about them. Yet
he was going away when suddenly his eye fell on the sculptured head of a
woman which hung upon the wall.

Smith looked at it once, twice, thrice, and at the third look he fell in
love. Needless to say, he was not aware that such was his condition.
He knew only that a change had come over him, and never, never could