of personal contests, a sort of gregarious duelling. And here
he had on hand a war of his own. He revived. The shadow of peace had
passed away from him like the shadow of death. It was a marvellous
resurrection of the named Feraud, Gabriel Florian, _engage volontaire_
of 1793, general of 1814, buried without ceremony by means of a service
order signed by the War Minister of the Second Restoration.

IV

No man succeeds in everything he undertakes. In that sense we are all
failures. The great point is not to fail in ordering and sustaining the
effort of our life. In this matter vanity is what leads us astray. It is
our vanity which hurries us into situations from which we must come out
damaged. Whereas pride is our safeguard by the reserve it imposes on
the choice of our endeavour, as much as by the virtue of its sustaining
power.

General D'Hubert was proud and reserved. He had not been damaged by
casual love affairs successful or otherwise. In his war-scarred body
his heart at forty remained unscratched. Entering with reserve into his
sister's matrimonial plans, he felt himself falling irremediably in love
as one falls off a roof. He was too proud to be frightened. Indeed, the
sensation was too delightful to be alarming.

The inexperience of a man of forty is a much more serious thing than
the inexperience of a youth of twenty, for it is not helped out by the
rashness of hot blood. The girl was mysterious, as all young girls
are, by the mere effect of their guarded ingenuity; and to him the
mysteriousness of that young girl appeared exceptional and fascinating.
But there was nothing mysterious about the arrangements of the match
which Madame Leonie had arranged. There was nothing peculiar, either. It
was a very appropriate match, commending itself extremely to the young
lady's mother (her father was dead) and tolerable to the young lady's
uncle--an old _emigre_, lately returned from Germany, and pervading cane
in hand like a lean ghost of the _ancien regime_ in a long-skirted brown
coat and powdered hair, the garden walks of the young lady's ancestral
home.

General D'Hubert was not the man to be satisfied merely with the girl
and the fortune--when it came to the point. His pride--and pride aims
always at true success--would be satisfied with nothing short of love.
But as pride excludes vanity, he could not imagine any reason why this
mysterious creature, with deep and candid eyes of a violet colour,
should