“Did you see that young man to whom I refused to speak?” he asked as they drove away.

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s a white-livered scoundrel.  He’s a type of your Northern gentlemen.  A Southern man would starve rather than act so pusillanimously.  Of course I’m not going to talk of family secrets, or say anything not befitting a high-toned gentleman, but I taught that snob how a man of honor regards his cowardice and cold-bloodedness.  He was one of our fair-weather friends, who promptly disappeared when the sky clouded.  Here he is, dawdling around a high-priced hotel, while I’m on my way to seek rooms in a tenement for those to whom he is not worthy to speak; but the time shall come, and speedily, too, when even on the base plane of money—­the sole claim of his proud family for consideration—­we shall meet him and scorn him as his superiors.  I have plans, business prospects—­“and he launched forth into such a vague, wild statement of his projects that Eoger looked at him in silent amazement, half doubting his sanity.

In his haste Mr. Jocelyn had not carefully gauged his syringe, and the over-amount of morphia thrown into his system so stimulated him that his words appeared exceedingly irrational to the young man, whose judgment was based on unusual shrewdness and common-sense.  He was greatly puzzled by the sudden change in his companion.  It was evident that he had not been drinking, for his breath was untainted and his utterance was natural.  But his face was flushed, and he seemed possessed by a strange, unbalanced mental exaltation which led him to speak as no sensible man ought in any circumstances, and certainly not to a stranger.  Roger therefore interrupted him saying, “I shall respect your confidence, Mr. Jocelyn, and will never repeat what you have said.  Please let me suggest, however, that it would be wise not to speak so frankly to others, since they might take advantage of you.”

“Please let me assure you,” resumed Mr. Jocelyn, with the most impressive dignity, “that I am a man of the world, and that I have seen a great deal of the world.  I can read men as you would read a book.  If you were not trustworthy I should know it at a glance.  Did you not see how I treated that young jackanapes?  His wealth and elegance did not impose upon me in the least.  You are trustworthy.  You have a large, aspiring mind, and yet you know your station; you would not dream of presuming.  What does it signify that we are poor for the moment?  True Southern blood is in our veins, and I have a dozen plans for securing large wealth.  When that day comes I shall remember those who basely turned their backs on us in our brief obscurity;” and thus he rambled on, while Roger listened coldly and in silence.

“There is method is his madness,” he said to himself; “he is not so daft but that he hints broadly I must keep my station and not be ‘presuming.’  His proud daughter hints as much still more plainly.  Well, we’ll see whose dreams find the larger fulfilment—­his or mine.”