It was shortly after this that, having by dint of extraordinary
strategy eluded the brothers and reached the railway-station, Roland,
with his ticket to London in his pocket and the express already
entering the station, was engaged in conversation by old Mr. Coppin,
who appeared from nowhere to denounce the high cost of living in a
speech that lasted until the tail-lights of the train had vanished and
Brothers Frank and Percy arrived, panting.

A man has only a certain capacity for battling with Fate. After this
last episode Roland gave in. Not even the exquisite agony of hearing
himself described in church as a bachelor of this parish, with the grim
addition that this was for the second time of asking, could stir him to
a fresh dash for liberty.

Altho the shadow of the future occupied Roland's mind almost to the
exclusion of everything else, he was still capable of suffering a
certain amount of additional torment from the present; and one of the
things which made the present a source of misery to him was the fact
that he was expected to behave more like a mad millionaire than a sober
young man with a knowledge of the value of money. His mind, trained
from infancy to a decent respect for the pence, had not yet adjusted
itself to the possession of large means; and the open-handed role
forced upon him by the family appalled him.

When the Coppins wanted anything, they asked for it; and it seemed to
Roland that they wanted pretty nearly everything. If Mr. Coppin had
reached his present age without the assistance of a gold watch, he
might surely have struggled along to the end on gun-metal. In any case,
a man of his years should have been thinking of higher things than mere
gauds and trinkets. A like criticism applied to Mrs. Coppin's demand