n;
until the baronet said, "My friends, I think we are forgetting our
courtesy. Allow me to give you without more delay--the toast I was
about to propose,--'Health, long life, and happiness to Mr. Guy
Halifax.'"

And so poor Guy's birthday toast was drunk; almost in silence; and the
few words he said in acknowledgment were just listened to, scarcely
heard. Every one rose from table, and the festivities were over.

One by one all our guests began to make excuse. One by one,
involuntarily perhaps, yet not the less painfully and plainly, they all
shrunk away from us, as if in the universal trouble we, who had nothing
to fear, had no part nor lot. Formal congratulations, given with pale
lips and wandering eyes; brusque adieux, as some of the more honest or
less courteous showed but too obviously how cruelly, even resentfully,
they felt the inequalities of fortune; hasty departures, full of a
dismay that rejected angrily every shadow of consolation;--all these
things John had to meet and to bear.

He met them with composure; scarcely speaking a word, as indeed what
was there to say? To all the friendly speeches, real or pretended, he
listened with a kind of sad gravity: of all harsher words than
these--and there were not a few--he took not the least notice, but held
his place as master of the house; generously deaf and blind to
everything that it were as well the master of the house should neither
hear nor see.

At last he was left, a very Pariah of prosperity, by his own hearth,
quite alone.

The last carriage had rolled away; the tired household had gone to bed;
there was no one in the study but me. John came in and stood leaning
with both his arms against the fireplace, motionless and silent. He
leant there so long, that at last I touched him.

"Well, Phineas!"

I saw this night's events had wounded him to the core.

"Are you thinking of these honest, friendly, disinterested guests of
ours? Don't! They are not worth a single thought."

"Not an angry thought, certainly." And he smiled at my wrath--a sad
smile.

"Ah, Phineas! now I begin to understand what is meant by the curse of
prosperity."

CHAPTER XXXI

A great, eager, but doggedly-quiet crowd, of which each had his or
her--for it was half women--individual terror to hide, his or her
individual interest to fight for, and cared not a straw for that of any
one else.

It was market-day, and this crowd was collected and collecting every
m