aphs, and delighted to pore over it,
indulging reminiscences or fostering hopes. Once in a twelvemonth or
so, he made up his mind to marry, but never went further than the
intention. It was doubtful whether he would ever commit himself
irrevocably. "It seems such a pity," he often said, with his pensively
humorous smile, "to limit the scope of one's emotions--_borner la
carriere a ses emotions_!" Then he sighed, and was in the best of
spirits.

Not even to Moncharmont--with whom he talked more freely than with any
other man--had Piers ever spoken of Irene. Andre of course suspected
some romantic attachment, and was in constant amaze at Piers' fidelity.

"Ah, you English! you English!" he would exclaim. "You are the stoics
of the modern world. I admire; yes, I admire; but, my friend, I do not
wish to imitate."

The letter cheered Otway's breakfast; he read it instead of the
newspaper, and with vastly more benefit.

Another letter had come to his private address, a note from Mrs.
Hannaford. She was regaining strength, and hoped soon to come South
again. Her brother had already taken a nice little house for her at
Campden Hill, where Olga would have a sort of studio, and, she trusted,
would make herself happy. Both looked forward to seeing Piers; they
sent him their very kindest remembrances.

CHAPTER XXI

The passionate temperament is necessarily sanguine. To desire with all
one's being is the same thing as to hope. In Piers Otway's case, the
temper which defies discouragement existed together with the intellect
which ever tends to discourage, with the mind which probes appearances,
makes war upon illusions. Hence his oft varying moods, as the one or
the other part of him became ascendent. Hence his fervours of idealism,
and the habit of destructive criticism which seemed inconsistent with
them. Hence his ardent ambitions, and his appearance of plodding
mediocrity in practical life.

Intensely self-conscious, he suffered much from a habit of comparing,
contrasting himself with other men, with men who achieved things, who
made their way, who played a part in the world. He could not read a
newspaper without reflecting, sometimes bitterly, on the careers and
position of men whose names were prominent in its columns. So often, he
well knew, their success came only of accident--as one uses the word:
of favouring circumstance, which had no relation to the man's powers
and merits. Piers had no overweening self-est