A Double-Barrelled Ghost.
I was ruined. The bank in which I had been a sleeping- partner from my cradle smashed suddenly, and I was exempted from income tax at one fell blow. It became necessary to dispose even of the family mansion and the hereditary furniture. The shame of not contributing to my country's exchequer spurred me to earnest reflection upon how to earn an income, and, having mixed myself another lemon-squash, I threw myself back on the canvas garden- chair, and watched the white, scented wreaths of my cigar- smoke hanging in the drowsy air, and provoking inexperienced bees to settle upon them. It was the sort of summer after- noon on which to eat lotus, and to sip the dew from the lips of Amaryllises ; but although I had an affianced Amaryllis (whose Christian name was Jenny Grant), I had not the heart to dally with her in view of my sunk fortunes. She loved me for myself, no doubt, but then I was not myself since the catastrophe ; and although she had hastened to assure me of her unchanged regard, I was not at all certain whether I should be able to support a wife in addition to all my other misfortunes. So that I was not so comfortable that afternoon as I appeared to my perspiring valet : no rose in the garden had a pricklier thorn than I. The thought of my poverty weighed me down ; and when the setting sun began flinging bars of gold among the clouds, the reminder of my past extravagance made my heart heavier still, and I broke down utterly.
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