Evan, I dare say, was long in learning to draw any gratification from the fact that he had achieved without money the unparalleled conquest of a man.

Perhaps he never knew what immediate influence on his fortune this episode effected.
At Hillford they went their different ways.

The postillion wished him good speed, and Evan shook his hand.

He did so rather abruptly, for the postillion was fumbling at his pocket, and evidently rounding about a proposal in his mind.
My gentleman has now the road to himself.

Money is the clothing of a gentleman: he may wear it well or ill.