He was no longer a clergyman; he was about to marry a woman to whom he
was much attached, and he had parted company for ever with his father and
mother.
True, he had lost all his money, his reputation, and his position as a
gentleman; he had, in fact, had to burn his house down in order to get
his roast sucking pig; but if asked whether he would rather be as he was
now or as he was on the day before his arrest, he would not have had a
moment's hesitation in preferring his present to his past. If his
present could only have been purchased at the expense of all that he had
gone through, it was still worth purchasing at the price, and he would go
through it all again if necessary. The loss of the money was the worst,
but Ellen said she was sure they would get on, and she knew all about it.
As for the loss of reputation--considering that he had Ellen and me left,
it did not come to much.
I saw the house on the afternoon of the day on which all was finished,
and there remained nothing but to buy some stock and begin selling. When
I was gone, after he had had his tea, he stole up to his castle--the
first floor front. He lit his pipe and sat down to the piano.
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