The Doings of Raffles Haw

And so the great secret was out, and Robert walked home with his head in / a whirl, and the blood tingling in his veins. He had shivered as he / came up at the damp cold of the wind and the sight of the mist-mottled / landscape. That was all gone now. His own thoughts tinged everything / with sunshine, and he felt inclined to sing and dance as he walked / down the muddy, deeply-rutted country lane. Wonderful had been the fate / allotted to Raffles Haw, but surely hardly less important that which had / come upon himself. He was the sharer of the alchemist's secret, and / the heir to an inheritance which combined a wealth greater than that of / monarchs, to a freedom such as monarchs cannot enjoy. This was a destiny / indeed! A thousand gold-tinted visions of his future life rose up / before him, and in fancy he already sat high above the human race, / with prostrate thousands imploring his aid, or thanking him for his / benevolence.

How sordid seemed the untidy garden, with its scrappy bushes and gaunt / elm trees! How mean the plain brick front, with the green wooden porch! / It had always offended his artistic sense, but now it was obtrusive in / its ugliness. The plain room, too, with the American leather chairs, the / dull-coloured carpet, and the patchwork rug, he felt a loathing for it / all. The only pretty thing in it, upon which his eyes could rest with / satisfaction, was his sister, as she leaned back in her chair by the / fire with her white, clear beautiful face outlined against the dark / background.