come in any circumstances. As there are only two of us in the world--"

"Yes," he said, "there are only two of us in the world; but still I
should not have sent for you, Phil, to interrupt your career."

"It is as well, then, that it has interrupted itself," I said rather
bitterly; for disappointment is hard to bear.

He patted me on the shoulder, and repeated, "It is an ill wind that blows
nobody good," with a look of real pleasure which gave me a certain
gratification too; for, after all, he was an old man, and the only one in
all the world to whom I owed any duty. I had not been without dreams of
warmer affections, but they had come to nothing--not tragically, but in
the ordinary way. I might perhaps have had love which I did not want but
not that which I did want,--which was not a thing to make any unmanly
moan about, but in the ordinary course of events. Such disappointments
happen every day; indeed, they are more common than anything else, and
sometimes it is apparent afterwards that it is better it was so.

However, here I was at thirty stranded, yet wanting for nothing,--in a
position to call forth rather envy than pity from the greater part of my
contemporaries; for I had an assured and comfortable existence, as much
money as I wanted, and the prospect of an excellent fortune for the
future. On the other hand, my health was still low, and I had no
occupation. The neighborhood of the town was a drawback rather than an
advantage. I felt myself tempted, instead of taking the long walk into
the country which my doctor recommended, to take a much shorter one
through the High Street, across the river, and back again, which was
not a walk but a lounge. The country was silent and full of
thoughts,--thoughts not always very agreeable,--whereas there were always