This poor, sickly lad, the heir, with whom he
soon made warm friends, and the silent, morbid Duke, with the face of
Charles V. at St. Just--he became, in a short time, profoundly and
pitifully attached to them. It pleased him to serve them; above all did
it please him to do all he could, and to incite others to do all they
could, to keep these two frail persons cheered and alive. His own
passionate dread lest he should suddenly find himself in their place,
gave a particular poignancy to the service he was always ready to render
them of his best.

The Duke's confidence in him had increased rapidly. Delafield was now
about to take over the charge of another of the Duke's estates, in the
Midlands, and much of the business connected with some important London
property was also coming into his hands. He had made himself a good man
of business where another's interests were concerned, and his dreams did
no harm to the Duke's revenues. He gave, indeed, a liberal direction to
the whole policy of the estate, and, as he had said to Julie, the Duke
did not forbid experiments.

As to his own money, he gave it away as wisely as he could, which is,
perhaps, not saying very much for the schemes and Quixotisms of a young
man of eight-and-twenty. At any rate, he gave it away--to his mother and
sister first, then to a variety of persons and causes. Why should he
save a penny of it? He had some money of his own, besides his income
from the Duke. It was disgusting that he should have so much, and that
it should be, apparently, so very easy for him to have indefinitely
more if he wanted it.

He lived in a small cottage, in the simplest, plainest way compatible
with his work and with the maintenance of two decently furnished rooms
for any friend who might chance to visit him. He read much and thought
much. But he was not a man of any commanding speculative or analytic
ability. It would have been hard for him to give any very clear or
logical account of himself and his deepest beliefs. Nevertheless, with
every year that passed he became a more remarkable _character_--his will
stronger, his heart gentler. In the village where he lived they wondered
at him a good deal, and often laughed at him. But if he had left them,
certainly the children and the old people would have felt as though the
sun had gone out.

In London he showed little or nothing of his peculiar ways and pursuits;
was, in fact, as far as anybody knew--outside half a dozen fr