ems a very
good-natured sort of woman."

"Good-natured! Is that all you say? I can tell you, in my time men
were nothing so particular when there were eight thousand a year going
a-begging."

"Well, well," said Mr. Roscorla with a smile, "it is a very good joke.
When she marries, she'll marry a younger man than I am."

"Don't you be mistaken--don't you be mistaken!" the old general cried.
"You've made an impression--I'll swear you have; and I told her
ladyship you would."

"And what did Lady Weekes say?"

"Gad, sir! she said it would be a deuced good thing for both of you."

"She is very kind," said Mr. Roscorla, pleased at the notion of having
such a prize within reach, and yet not pleased that Lady Weekes should
have fancied this the sort of woman he would care to marry.

They went to Brighton, and a very pleasant time of it they had at the
big noisy hotel. The weather was delightful. Mrs. Seton-Willoughby was
excessively fond of riding: forenoon and afternoon they had their
excursions, with the pleasant little dinner of the evening to follow.
Was not this a charmed land into which the former hermit of Basset
Cottage was straying? Of course, he never dreamed for a moment of
marrying this widow: that was out of the question. She was just a
little too demonstrative--very clever and amusing for half an hour or
so, but too gigantic a blessing to be taken through life. It was the
mere possibility of marrying her, however, which attracted Mr.
Roscorla. He honestly believed, judging by her kindness to him, that
if he seriously tried he could get her to marry him--in other words,
that he might become possessed of eight thousand pounds a year. This
money, so to speak, was within his reach; and it was only now that he
was beginning to see that money could purchase many pleasures even for
the middle-aged. He made a great mistake in imagining, down in
Cornwall, that he had lived his life, and that he had but to look
forward to mild enjoyments, a peaceful wandering onward to the grave,
and the continual study of economy in domestic affairs. He was only
now beginning to live.

"And when are you coming back?" said the widow to him one evening when
they were all talking of his leaving England.

"That I don't know," he said.

"Of course," she said, "you don't mean to remain in the West Indies. I
suppose lots of people have to go there for some object or other, but
they always come back when it is attained."

"They come