od looks, his conversational powers, and his excellent manners on
a second marriage which might be lucrative; but the complaisant lady
had stood in his way. Perhaps there had been a little cowardice on
his part; but at any rate he had hitherto failed. The season for such
a mode of relief was not, however, as yet clean gone with him, and
he was still on the look out. There are women always in the market
ready to buy for themselves the right to hang on the arm of a real
gentleman. That Mr. Maurice Maule was a real gentleman no judge in
such matters had ever doubted.

On a certain morning just at the end of February Mr. Maule was
sitting in his library,--so-called,--eating his breakfast, at about
twelve o'clock; and at his side there lay a note from his son Gerard.
Gerard had written to say that he would call on that morning, and the
promised visit somewhat disturbed the father's comfort. He was in
his dressing-gown and slippers, and had his newspaper in his hand.
When his newspaper and breakfast should be finished,--as they would
be certainly at the same moment,--there were in store for him two
cigarettes, and perhaps some new French novel which had just reached
him. They would last him till two o'clock. Then he would dress and
saunter out in his great coat, made luxurious with furs. He would
see a picture, or perhaps some china-vase, of which news had reached
him, and would talk of them as though he might be a possible buyer.
Everybody knew that he never bought anything;--but he was a man whose
opinion on such matters was worth having. Then he would call on
some lady whose acquaintance at the moment might be of service to
him;--for that idea of blazing once more out into the world on a
wife's fortune was always present to him. At about five he would
saunter into his club, and play a rubber in a gentle unexcited manner
till seven. He never played for high points, and would never be
enticed into any bet beyond the limits of his club stakes. Were he
to lose L10 or L20 at a sitting his arrangements would be greatly
disturbed, and his comfort seriously affected. But he played well,
taking pains with his game, and some who knew him well declared that
his whist was worth a hundred a year to him. Then he would dress and
generally dine in society. He was known as a good diner out, though
in what his excellence consisted they who entertained him might find
it difficult to say. He was not witty, nor did he deal in anecdotes.
He sp