In his middle life this was not possible; he must follow the path chosen long, ago, wherever, it led.

He was not master of himself, as he once seemed, but the servant of those he loved; if he could do what he liked, perhaps he might renounce this whole New York enterprise, and go off somewhere out of the reach of care; but he could not do what he liked, that was very clear.

In the pathos of this conviction he dwelt compassionately upon the thought of poor old Lindau; he resolved to make him accept a handsome sum of money--more than he could spare, something that he would feel the loss of--in payment of the lessons in German and fencing given so long ago.

At the usual rate for such lessons, his debt, with interest for twenty-odd years, would run very far into the hundreds.

Too far, he perceived, for his wife's joyous approval; he determined not to add the interest; or he believed that Lindau would refuse the interest; he put a fine speech in his mouth, making him do so; and after that he got Lindau employment on 'Every Other Week,' and took care of him till he died.
Through all his melancholy and munificence he was aware of sordid anxieties for having taken the Grosvenor Green apartment.