week through the winter; six weeks in town during the season,
with incidentals of Epsom, Goodwood, _saumon a la Trafalgar_, bouquets,
and opera-stalls; living all the rest of the year at a mess curious as
to the quality of its dry Champagne--these simple pleasures involve a
certain expenditure hardly "fairly warranted by our regimental rate of
pay." To accomplish all this on about L500 a year, and yet to steer
clear of ruin, is an ingenious process doubtless, but a sum not to be
wrought out (most soldiers will tell you) without some anxiety and
travail of mind. Now, in the very tightest state of the money-market,
Harry was never known to disquiet himself in vain. He would not borrow
from any of his comrades, refusing all such proffers of assistance
gratefully but consistently. No Mussulman ever equaled his contented
reliance on the resources of futurity, and his implicit belief in the
same. He would anchor his hopes on some such improbability as "a long
shot coming off," or "his Aunt Agnes coming down" (a proverbially awful
widow, who had forgiven him seven times already; and, after each fresh
offense, had sworn unrelenting enmity to him and his heirs forever).
Strong in this faith, he met condoling friends with a pleasant,
reassuring smile: with the same demeanor he confronted threatening
creditors. He used no arts, and condescended to no subterfuge in dealing
with these last; but, as one of them observed, retreating from the
barracks moneyless but gratified, "Mr. Molyneux seems to _feel_ for one,
at all events." So he did. He sympathized with his tailor, not in the
least because he owed him money, but because he was a fellow-creature in
difficulties, regretting heartily it was not in his own power to relieve
them; just as a very charitable but improvident person might feel on
reading a case of real distress in the _Times_. Strange to say, hitherto
he had always pulled through. Either the outsider _did_ win, or the
aunt, touched in the soft place of her heart through her ruffled
feathers, was brought down by a "wild shot," when considered quite out
of distance, and "parted" freely.

The last and hardest trial of all--long debility and frequent
illness--had failed to shake this intense serenity. He was never cross
or unreasonable, and tried to give as little trouble as possible; but
was grateful to a degree for every thing that was done for him: he could
even manage to thank people for their advice, whether he took it n