rove that I have been a false prophetess; but, mark my
words, John, I shan't succeed. And, to tell you the truth, my dear
brother, I tremble for the future."

"You're a sweet little silly goose," I answered. "You let your
affection for me run away with your better judgment. Why in heaven's
name should I not be happy with Marie? She is beautiful, and I admit
that it was her rare beauty that first commended her to me, and she has
a sweet nature and character; and after all, goodness of character
outweighs even good looks. Then, too, she is very clever and bright,
and altogether she is exactly the sort of girl calculated to make a man
happy."

"I hope that I may be wrong, and that you may be right, John," said
Ruth; "but I don't think that I am wrong, and, of course, time will
only show. At present we need say no more. Your mind is evidently made
up, and I shall urge nothing further to prevent you from following your
own inclinations. But in the time to come, don't forget that your
sister warned you." And with that last shaft Ruth left the room.

My name is John Gardner, my age is thirty-six, and I am what is
generally known as "a self-made man." But had I really had the making
of myself I should have endeavoured to produce a different being. I
recollect at the grammar school in Cambridgeshire, where I received a
plain education, hearing one of the masters, Mr. Ruddock, mention a
Greek proverb, "Know thyself," and advise the boys in his form to act
upon the advice given by the Greek sage who pronounced these words. I
was not, as a rule, struck with much that fell from Mr. Ruddock's lips,
for he was a dull, stupid, and pompous man, possessing much more force
of manner than of character. But I did take this advice to heart and
endeavoured to act up to it, with the result that I know as much about
my own uninteresting self as most other human beings know about
themselves.

Well, this is how I appear in my own eyes. A strong, healthy man with
an active disposition, and capable of, and a lover of hard work. A
blunt manner, and with an entire absence of tact in anything in which
strict business is not concerned. I know that I am truthful, for, in
addition to a natural hatred of lying which I must have inherited from
my dear parents, I have always recognised the fact that in business and
in everything else the truth always pays the best. During the sixteen
years that I have devoted to business I have endeavoured to act
squar