ollow; and who at last, by
one mental effort, with no friendly hand to help, and no friendly voice
to guide, has succeeded in bursting a road through the difficulties
which hemmed him in, and has suddenly found himself, not above
competition indeed, but still able to meet it. He will not have been
too proud of that endeavour; it will have seemed but a little thing to
him--a thing full of faults and imperfections, and falling far short
of his ideal. He will not even have attached a great importance to his
success, because, if he is a person of this calibre, he must remember
how small it is, when all is said and done; that even in his day there
are those who can beat him on his own ground; and also that all worldly
success, like the most perfect flower, yet bears in it the elements of
decay. But he will have reflected with humble satisfaction on those long
years of patient striving which have at length lifted him to an eminence
whence he can climb on and on, scarcely encumbered by the jostling
crowd; till at length, worn out, the time comes for him to fall.

So Geoffrey thought and felt. The thing was to be done, and he had done
it. Honoria should have money now; she should no longer be able to twit
him with their poverty. Yes, and a better thought still, Beatrice would
be glad to hear of his little triumph.

He reached home rather late. Honoria was going out to dinner with a
distinguished cousin, and was already dressing. Geoffrey had declined
the invitation, which was a short one, because he had not expected to be
back from chambers. In this enthusiasm, however, he went to his wife's
room to tell her of the event.

"Well," she said, "what have you been doing? I think that you might have
arranged to come out with me. My going out so much by myself does not
look well. Oh, I forgot; of course you are in that case."

"Yes--that is, I was. I have won the case. Here is a very fair report of
it in the _St. James's Gazette_ if you care to read it."

"Good heavens, Geoffrey! How can you expect me to read all that stuff
when I am dressing?"

"I don't expect you to, Honoria; only, as I say, I have won the case,
and I shall get plenty of work now."

"Will you? I am glad to hear it; perhaps we shall be able to escape
from this horrid flat if you do. There, Anne! Je vous l'ai toujours dit,
cette robe ne me va pas bien."

"Mais, milady, la robe va parfaitement----"

"That is your opinion," grumbled Lady Honoria. "Well, it is