the beginning of his doom at all costs to himself; but, he reasoned, she
would be more capable of taking the information calmly in the daylight
of the morning than now, at a few minutes of midnight.

It was another short reprieve, enabling him to give all his attention to
the tasks before him. If he was not to come back to Tory Hill he must
leave his private papers there, his more intimate treasures, in good
order. Certain things would have to be put away, others rearranged,
others destroyed. For the most part they were in the library, the room
he specially claimed as his own. Before setting himself to the work
there he walked through some of the other rooms, turning out the lights.

In doing so he was consciously taking a farewell. He had been born in
this house; in it he had spent his boyhood; to it he had come back as a
young married man. He had lived in it till his wife and he had set up
their more ambitious establishment in Boston, an extravagance from
which, perhaps, all the subsequent misfortunes could be dated. He had
known at the time that his father, had he lived, would have condemned
the step; but he himself was a believer in fortunate chances. Besides,
it was preposterous for a young couple of fashion to continue living in
a rambling old house that belonged to neither town nor country, at a
time when the whole trend of life was cityward. They had discussed the
move, with its large increase of expenditure, from every point of view,
and found it one from which, in their social position, there was no
escape. It was a matter about which they had hardly any choice.

So, too, a few years later, with the taking of the cottage at Newport.
It was forced on them. When all their friends were doing something of
the sort it seemed absurd to hesitate because of a mere matter of
means--especially when by hook or by crook the means could be procured.