f his sleeping beneath the same roof with Georgy Lenox--of his
enjoying that mystical, beautiful experience of coming down every
morning to find her at table with her hair freshly curled, to enjoy the
felicity of passing her eggs and toast, to carve a slice for her from
the joint which the welcome addition of the young man's payment for
board allowed Mrs. Lenox to provide for her dinner. Then, too, we felt
with a pang that he would receive with his unequalled grace all sorts of
little services from the daughter of the house: she would pour his tea
for him, counting the lumps of sugar and dropping cream upon them in the
distracting way we knew; she would amuse him with her sweet-voiced
chatter. He was so old, so handsome with his velvety eyes and his
moustache, she might even fall in love with him. However, Georgy was not
given to sentiment, and Tony, for his part, was utterly indifferent to
her: indeed, the most exclusive circles in Belfield opened to him at
once, for a young man with a moustache was a _rara avis_ there, the
masculine element in the village falling short of social requirements,
as its representatives were generally either in their first or second
childhood. But the only intimacy he cultivated was with me and my
mother: he criticised everybody else, and it was evident that he
considered nothing in Belfield quite good enough for him.

"What a great man my master is!" says the French valet: "nothing suits
him." And it must be confessed that the valet's state of mind
concerning his master much resembled ours regarding Thorpe. At every
woman in the place except my mother he levelled trenchant sarcasms: the
men, he declared, possessed every trait which could shock or weary a man
of the world, and not only displeased his eyes, but were so foreign to
his spheres of thought that he was obliged to ignore them. At the habits
and customs of everybody alike he shrugged his shoulders, and we used to
wonder to each other why so great a man stayed in Belfield at all. But
he did us no harm, and it is not impossible that he did us good. He
laughed freely at our provincialisms, accustomed us to take raillery
good-naturedly, disillusionized us in many ways, and showed us always a
pattern of polished and careful demeanor.

He used to entertain us frequently--if I may use the word "entertain" to
describe his indifferent toleration of us and his acceptance of such
listeners in default of better--by a description of Mr. Raymon