article best suited to them, as Mortimer Gazebee had done in marrying her sister.  Miss Griselda Grantly, who had become Lady Dumbello, though somewhat colder and somewhat cleverer than Lady Alexandrina, had been of the same sort.  But in marrying her, Lord Dumbello had got the article best suited to him;—­if only the ill-natured world would allow him to keep the article.  It was in this that Crosbie’s failure had been so grievous,—­that he had seen and approved the better course, but had chosen for himself to walk in that which was worse.  During that week at Courcy Castle,—­the week which he passed there immediately after his second visit to Allington,—­he had deliberately made up his mind that he was more fit for the bad course than for the good one.  The course was now before him, and he had no choice but to walk in it.

It was very cold when they got to Folkestone, and Lady Alexandrina shivered as she stepped into the private-looking carriage which had been sent to the station for her use.

“We shall find a good fire in the parlour at the hotel,” said Crosbie.

“Oh, I hope so,” said Alexandrina, “and in the bedroom too.”

The young husband felt himself to be offended, but he hardly knew why.  He felt himself to be offended, and with difficulty induced himself to go through all those little ceremonies the absence of which would have been remarked by everybody.  He did his work, however, seeing to all her shawls and wrappings, speaking with good-nature to Hannah, and paying special attention to the dressing-case.

“What time would you like to dine?” he asked, as he prepared to leave her alone with Hannah in the bedroom.

“Whenever you please; only I should like some tea and bread-and-butter presently.”

Crosbie went into the sitting-room, ordered the tea and bread-and-butter, ordered also the dinner, and then stood himself up with his back to the fire, in order that he might think a little of his future career.

He was a man who had long since resolved that his life should be a success.  It would seem that all men would so resolve, if the matter were simply one of resolution.  But the majority of men, as I take it, make no such resolution, and very many men resolve that they will be unsuccessful.  Crosbie, however, had resolved on success, and had done much towards carrying out his purpose.  He had made a name for himself, and had acquired a certain fame.  That, however, was, as he acknowledged to himself, departing from him.  He looked the matter straight in the face, and told himself that his fashion must be abandoned; but the office remained to him.  He might still rule over Mr Optimist, and make a subservient slave of Butterwell.  That must be his line in life now, and to that line he would endeavour to be true.  As to his wife and his home,—­he would look to them for his breakfast, and perhaps his dinner.  He would have a comfortable arm-chair, and if Alexandrina should become a mother he would endeavour to love his children; but above all things he would never think of Lily.  After that he stood and thought of her for half an hour.