When a man cultured in all the arts that please, gives himself to the fascinating of a particular person, male or female, that man does not often fail.  Where the prize is five millions he ought to play his highest trumps.

This is what George Harpwood has done.  Sometimes he has paused to admire his own unselfishness.  Sometimes, after a drenching on account of the David Lockwin Annex—­a costly fabric—­Mr. Harpwood marvels that men should be created so for the solace of widows!  The other ladies show their discontent.  Fortunes are on every hand, and Esther is like Niobe, all tears.  Why does Harpwood turn all tears, weeping for Lockwin?  This causes Harpwood to be himself astonished.

It is only genius that can adapt itself to an environment so lugubrious.  It is only genius that can unhorse suspicion itself, leaving even the would-be detractor to admit that Mr. Harpwood is a kind man—­as he certainly is.

“Who would not be kind for five millions?” he asks, yet he the next moment may deny that he wants the five millions.

It is a fine fortitude that George Harpwood can show upon occasion.  It was he who, lost in the opium habit, went to his room for two weeks, and kept the pieces of opium and bottles of morphine within sight on his mantel, touching none of the drug—­curing himself.

He could serve Esther as long as Jacob served Laban.  He could end by the conquest of himself.  While he shall be doubtful of his own selfishness, all others must be glad that Esther is given into hands so gentle and intelligent.

Mrs. Grundy knows little about this.  Esther Lockwin has offended Mrs. Grundy by a long absence from the world.

If Esther now feel a warm glow in her heart; if she pass a dreary day while Mr. Harpwood is necessarily absent, nobody suspects it—­except Mr. Harpwood.

It has not displeased the disinterested friend of Esther Lockwin to note the upward drift of his political opportunities.  It is silently taken for granted that he is a coming man.  Whenever he shall cease his disinterested attentions to the widow it is clear he will be a paragon.  And the critics who might aver as much, did they know the case, would be scandalized if he so mistreated the lady who has come to lean on him.

“In doing good to others,” says George Harpwood, “we do the greatest good to ourselves.”

Yet one must not devote himself to a rich lady beyond a period of reasonable length.  One’s own business must be rescued from neglect.  If this doctrine be taught skillfully Esther Lockwin will learn that she must show her gratitude in a substantial manner.

Five millions, for instance.

After that crisis secrecy may be, less sternly imposed.  If the lady, in her illness—­ah! that was a shock to Harpwood, that runaway—­if the lady, in her illness, demand personal calls, which must certainly let loose the gossips—­after all, it is her matter.  If Esther Lockwin desire to see George Harpwood in the day-time, in the evening—­all the time—­so be it.