He had kept my letter by him, not daring to open it,--as he says that he did with that eligible invitation.

At last he had given it to one of his girls to examine,--to see whether the thorn would be too sharp, whether I had turned upon him with reproaches.

A man so susceptible, so prone to work by fits and starts, so unmethodical, could not have been a good editor.
In 1862 he went into the new house which he had built for himself at Palace Green.

I remember well, while this was still being built, how his friends used to discuss his imprudence in building it.

Though he had done well with himself, and had made and was making a large income, was he entitled to live in a house the rent of which could not be counted at less than from five hundred to six hundred pounds a year?
Before he had been there two years, he solved the question by dying,--when the house was sold for two thousand pounds more than it had cost.