Without giving any one ground to charge him with being lukewarm or
renegade to his cause, he had yet so adroitly managed his affairs that
when peace came he was able quickly to recover much of the ground lost
during the war. With a rare genius for adapting himself to new
conditions, he accepted the changed order of things with a passive
resignation, but with a stern determination to make the most out of any
good that might be in it.

It was a favourite remark of his that there must be some good in every
system, and it was the duty of the citizen to find out that good and
make it pay. He had done this. His house, his reputation, his
satisfaction, were all evidences that he had succeeded.

A childless man, he bestowed upon his younger brother, Francis, the
enthusiasm he would have given to a son. His wife shared with her
husband this feeling for her brother-in-law, and with him played the
role of parent, which had otherwise been denied her.

It was true that Francis Oakley was only a half-brother to Maurice, the
son of a second and not too fortunate marriage, but there was no halving
of the love which the elder man had given to him from childhood up.

At the first intimation that Francis had artistic ability, his brother
had placed him under the best masters in America, and later, when the
promise of his youth had begun to blossom, he sent him to Paris,
although the expenditure just at that time demanded a sacrifice which
might have been the ruin of Maurice's own career. Francis's promise had
never come to entire fulfilment. He was always trembling on the verge of
a great success without quite plunging into it. Despite the joy which
his presence gave his brother and sister-in-law, most of his time was