He was a knight-errant.

All women--especially all good and discerning women who knew him and who could intuitively read beneath that clumsy personality his fine sense of respect--even of adoration--loved Tom Ochiltree.
The equivocal celebrity he enjoyed was largely fostered by himself, his stories mostly at his own expense.

His education had been but casual.
But he had a great deal of it and a varied assortment.

He knew everybody on both sides of the Atlantic, his friends ranging from the Prince of Wales, afterward Edward VII, Gladstone and Disraeli, Gambetta and Thiers, to the bucks of the jockey clubs.

There were two of Tom--Tom the noisy on exhibition, and Tom the courtier in society.
How he lived when out of office was the subject of unflattering conjecture.