was direfully poor, and nevertheless refused various opportunities of
making money, his folly or his madness would be brought home to him
sooner or later by strong necessity, and that he would then either
arrive at a sane every-day realisation of "things as they are"--or else
be put away in an asylum and quietly forgotten. This being the
sagacious opinion of those who knew him best, there was a considerable
flutter in such limited American circles as call themselves "upper"
when the wealthiest young woman in the States, Morgana Royal, suddenly
elected to know him and to bring him into prominent notice at her
parties as "the most wonderful genius of the time"--"a man whose
scientific discoveries might change the very face of the globe"--and
other fantastically exaggerated descriptions of her own which he
himself strongly repudiated and resented. Gossip ran amok concerning
the two, and it was generally agreed that if the "madman" of science
were to become the husband of a woman multi-millionaire, he would not
have to be considered so mad after all! But the expected romance did
not materialise,--there came apparently a gradual "cooling off" in the
sentiments of both parties concerned,--and though Roger Seaton was
still occasionally seen with Morgana in her automobile, in her
opera-box, or at her receptions, his appearances were fewer, and other
men, in fact many other men, were more openly encouraged and
flattered,--Morgana herself showing as much indifference towards him as
she had at first shown interest. When, therefore, he suddenly left the
social scene of action, his acquaintances surmised that he had got an
abrupt dismissal, or as they more brusquely expressed it--"the game's
up"!

"He's lost his chance!" they said, shaking their heads forlornly--"And
he's poorer than Job! He'll be selling newspapers in the cars for a
living by and by!"

However, he was never met engaged in this lucrative way of
business,--he simply turned his back on everybody, Morgana Royal
included, and so far as "society" was concerned, just disappeared. In
the "hut of the dying" on that lonely hill-slope in California he was
happy, feeling a relief from infinite boredom, and thankful to be
alone. He had much to think about and much to do--inhabited places and
the movement of people were to him tedious and fatiguing, and he
decided that nature,--wild nature in a solitary and savage
aspect,--would suit his speculative and creative tendencies bes