I shall be there one day." As they walked Maggie looked at her uncle.

What was he really?
He should be a gentleman and yet he didn't look like one.

She remembered things that he had at different times said to her.
"Why, look at myself!" he had on earlier days, half-maudlin from "his drop at the 'Bull and Bush,'" exclaimed to Maggie, "I can't call myself a success! I'm a rotten failure if you want to know, and I had most things in my favour to start with, went to Cambridge, had a good opening as a barrister.

But it wasn't quick enough for me.

I was restless and wanted to jump the moon--now look at me! Same with your father, only he's put all his imagination into money--same as your aunts have put theirs into religion.