f good food and good lodgings
that troubled me most,--but the feeling that I was everybody's inferior.
There's no need to tell you how I was brought up; I was led to expect
better things, that's enough. I never got used to being ordered about. When
I was told to do this or that, I answered with a silent curse,--and I
wonder it didn't come out sometimes. That's my nature. If I had been born
the son of a duke, I couldn't have resented a subordinate position more
fiercely than I did. And I used to rack my brain with schemes for getting
out of it. Many a night I have lain awake for hours, trying to hit on some
way of earning my living independently. I planned elaborate forgeries. I
read criminal cases in the newspapers to get a hint that I might work upon.
Well, that only means that I had exhausted all the honest attempts, and
found them all no good. I was in despair, that's all.'

He finished his whisky and shouted to the landlord, who presently brought
him another glass.

'What's that bird making the strange noise?'

'A night-jar, I think.'

'Nice to be sitting here, isn't it? I had rather be here than in the
swellest London club. Well, I was going to tell you how I got out of that
beastly life. You know, I'm really a very quiet fellow. I like simple
things; but all my life, till just lately, I never had a chance of enjoying
them; of living as I chose. The one thing I can't stand is to feel that I
am looked down upon. That makes a madman of me.'

He drank, and struck a match to relight his pipe.

'One Saturday afternoon I went to an exhibition in Coventry Street. The
pictures were for sale, and admission was free. I have always been fond of
water-colours; at that time it was one of my ambitions to possess a really
good bit of landscape in water-colour but, of course, I knew that the
prices were beyond me. Well, I walked through the gallery, and there was
one thing that caught my fancy; I kept going back to it again and again. It
was a bit of sea-coast by Ewart Merry,--do you know him? He died years ago;
his pictures fetch a fairly good price now. As I was looking at it, the
fellow who managed the show came up with a man and woman to talk about
another picture near me; he tried his hardest to persuade them to buy, but
they wouldn't, and I dare say it disturbed his temper. Seeing him stand
there alone, I stepped up to him, and asked the price of the water-colour.
He just gave a look at me, and said, "Too much money for