to
writing, and I was astonished at his industry and eagerness. He had for
the first time found a congenial occupation. He lived mostly at home in
those days, but he was often in London, where he went a good deal into
society. I do not know very much about him at this time, but I gather
that he achieved something of a social reputation. He was never a
voluble talker; I do not suppose he ever set the table in a roar, but
he had a quiet, humorous and sympathetic manner. His physical health
was then, as always, perfect. He was never tired or peevish; he was
frank, kindly and companionable; he talked little about himself, and
had a genuine interest in the study of personality, so that people were
apt to feel at their best in his society. Meanwhile his books came out
one after another--not great books exactly, but full of humour and
perception, each an advance on the last. By the age of thirty he was
accepted as one of the most promising novelists of the day.

Then he did what I never expected he would do; he fell wildly and
enthusiastically in love with the only daughter of a Gloucestershire
clergyman, a man of good family and position. She was the only child;
her mother had died some years before, and her father died shortly
after the marriage. She was a beautiful, vigorous girl, extraordinarily
ingenuous, simple-minded, and candid. She was not clever in the common
acceptance of the term, and was not the sort of person by whom I should
have imagined that my friend would have been attracted. They settled in
a pleasant house, which they built in Surrey, on the outskirts of a
village. Three children were born to them--a boy and a girl, and
another boy, who survived his birth only a few hours. From this time he
almost entirely deserted London, and became, I thought, almost
strangely content with a quiet domestic life. I was often with them in
those early days, and I do not think I ever saw a happier circle. It
was a large and comfortable house, very pleasantly furnished, with a
big garden. His father died in the early years of the marriage, and
left him a good income; with the proceeds of his books he was a
comparatively wealthy man. His wife was one of those people who have a
serene and unaffected interest in human beings. She was a religious
woman, but her relations with others were rather based on the purest
kindliness and sympathy. She knew every one in the place, and, having
no touch of shyness, she went in and out among