Had he had a little more self-control, had he waited a little longer till his position in society was secured, he could easily have married someone with money and position who would have placed him above sordid care and fear for ever.

But he could not wait; he was colossally vain; he would wear the peacock's feathers at all times and all costs: he was intensely pleasure-loving, too; his mouth watered for every fruit.

Besides, he couldn't write with creditors at the door.

Like Bossuet he was unable to work when bothered about small economies:--_s'il etait a l'etroit dans son domestique_.
What was to be done?
Suddenly he cut the knot and married the daughter of a Q.C., a Miss Constance Lloyd, a young lady without any particular qualities or beauty, whom he had met in Dublin on a lecture tour.

Miss Lloyd had a few hundreds a year of her own, just enough to keep the wolf from the door.