n America six years, and actually made money, so
that I could return to England with a small capital. I was also
under a promise to my three sisters (all older than myself) that
I would return in their lifetime. My programme was to purchase a
small, light business in London, and quietly earn my living; at
the same time making my presence known to no one. I _did_ buy
such a business, got swindled in the most clever way, and lost
every farthing I possessed in the world! I had to make my plight
known to old friends who all either gave or lent me money. Still
my position was a very precarious one. I tried an insurance
agency, one of the last resources of the educated destitute, but
soon found out that I was unfitted for work in which _impudence_
is a prime factor. Then an extraordinary stroke of good fortune
took place; almost simultaneously I began to get a few music
pupils, and literary work in connection with a good musical
journal.

"Making my presence known to old friends involved the same
information to those who were _not_ friends. My identity as a
journalist became known, and as time passed by it seemed to me as
if half the world had heard of my alleged iniquities. People who
have never set eyes on me seem to regard me in the light of a
monster of iniquity who ought not to be suffered to exist. All
these outsiders believe that I have committed 'nameless' offenses
times innumerable and lift up their hands in speechless horror at
the audacity of a man who, so situated, dares to appear openly in
public, under his own name, and look people in the face. They
have not even the brains to see that this very fearlessness
proves the fictitious character of their beliefs. Next, they
believe that if only they could get my dismissal from my
journalistic post I should be brought to starvation point. This
up to a year ago was true. Then an old relative died and left me
some property which I sold to invest in an annuity, and thus have
just enough to live on quietly, apart from what I may earn. Under
such strange conditions it might be asked whether life was not
unendurable. Frankly speaking, I cannot say that I find it so. I
have in London a few bachelor friends who go with me to theaters,
etc. In the suburbs I have about half a dozen family friends.
Here I meet with pleasant society a