He was fond of popularity, and especially anxious to be loved by a small circle of friends.

These good things he had thoroughly achieved.

Immediately after the publication of _Vanity Fair_ he stood high among the literary heroes of his country, and had endeared himself especially to a special knot of friends.

His face and figure, his six feet four in height, with his flowing hair, already nearly gray, and his broken nose, his broad forehead and ample chest, encountered everywhere either love or respect; and his daughters to him were all the world,--the bairns of whom he says, at the end of the _White Squall_ ballad; I thought, as day was breaking, My little girls were waking, And smiling, and making A prayer at home for me.
Nothing could have been more tender or endearing than his relations with his children.

But still there was a skeleton in his cupboard,--or rather two skeletons.