ite
a different kind of man from his former self. He had not been sensible
of a moment's reluctance; he enjoyed the novel sense of yielding himself
to affectionate guidance. His wits had gone wool-gathering; they
returned to him only after the short honeymoon at Brighton, when he
stood upon his own hearth-rug, and looked round at the new furniture
and ornaments which symbolized a new beginning of life.

The admirable landlady had shown herself energetic, clear-headed, and
full of resource; it was she who chose the house, and transacted all the
business in connection with it; Mr. Jordan had merely run about in her
company from place to place, smiling approval and signing cheques. No
one could have gone to work more prudently, or obtained what she wanted
at smaller outlay; for all that, Mr. Jordan, having recovered something
like his normal frame of mind, viewed the results with consternation.
Left to himself, he would have taken a very small house, and furnished
it much in the style of Islington lodgings; as it was, he occupied a
ten-roomed 'villa', with appointments which seemed to him luxurious,
aristocratic. True, the expenditure was of no moment to a man in his
position, and there was no fear that Mrs. Jordan would involve him in
dangerous extravagance; but he had always lived with such excessive
economy that the sudden change to a life correspondent with his income
could not but make him uncomfortable.

Mrs. Jordan had, of course, seen to it that her personal appearance
harmonized with the new surroundings. She dressed herself and her young
daughter with careful appropriateness. There was no display, no purchase
of gewgaws--merely garments of good quality, such as became people in
easy circumstances. She impressed upon her husband that this was nothing
more than a return to the habits of her earlier life. Her first marriage
had been a sad mistake; it had brought her down in the world. Now she
felt restored to her natural position.

After a week of restlessness, Mr. Jordan resumed his daily visits to
the shop in Upper Street, where he sat as usual among the books and the
correspondence, and tried to assure himself that all would henceforth
be well with him. No more changing from house to house; a really
comfortable home in which to spend the rest of his days; a kind and most
capable wife to look after all his needs, to humour all his little
habits. He could not have taken a wiser step.

For all that, he had lost