ho was method
and preciseness in itself, we had been induced to cultivate the habit of
keeping a diary. My own fits of application had their limits, and in
consequence the record of my own daily life died a natural death within
a week of its commencement. Max, however, must either have looked at it
in another light, or have been composed of entirely different material.
Having set his hand to it, his dogged determination insisted upon his
carrying it through; in consequence, the habit grew upon him, and,
fortunately for the story I have to tell, it lasted until the day of his
death. It is from the last two volumes of this concise, and I might even
add remarkable, history that I take the record as it is set down in the
following pages. It will be observed that I have put it in the form of a
narrative, told by myself, adding explanations where necessary, but in
the main preserving the whole in as complete a form as it was originally
written. How Max left the Princess Ottilie in the park after his
ill-starred interview with her and rode away has already been told. A
few other details, however, may prove of interest. As soon as he
arrived, it would appear that Felix offered him refreshment, but he
declined it, saying that he was in a hurry to catch a train to
Hampshire. Seating himself at my writing-table he took a sheet of
notepaper and composed the letter which was destined, a few hours
afterwards, to cause me so much unhappiness. "Thank heaven, that's
done," he said to himself, as he rose to his feet and placed the
envelope, which he secured with his private seal, in a conspicuous
position upon the table. "Paul will be certain to see it directly he
returns." Then having rung the bell for Felix, he bade him send some one
to call a cab. Telling him to inform Theodore, his valet, that he would
receive his orders from myself, he went down to it, sprang in, and bade
the man drive him with all speed to Waterloo. He had barely time to take
his ticket, to see that the luggage he himself had packed and sent on
ahead earlier in the day had started for Bristol, and then to catch the
train. Indeed, the starting bell had already sounded as he crossed the
platform.

"This won't do at all," Max said to himself, when they had rolled out of
the station, and he had time to look round the luxurious compartment in
which he was seated. "If I am going out into the world to win my way I
should not be riding first class. I must travel third and