"
Herewith he kicked over his book-shelf and, putting on his hat,
hastened from the house to the club of which he was a member. In
such a place of mundane resort he hoped to find some man of good
counsel and a shrewd experience in life. In the reading-room he
saw many of the country clergy and an Archdeacon; there were three
journalists and a writer upon the Higher Metaphysic, playing pool;
and at dinner only the raff of ordinary club frequenters showed
their commonplace and obliterated countenances. None of these,
thought Mr. Rolles, would know more on dangerous topics than he
knew himself; none of them were fit to give him guidance in his
present strait. At length in the smoking-room, up many weary
stairs, he hit upon a gentleman of somewhat portly build and
dressed with conspicuous plainness. He was smoking a cigar and
reading the FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW; his face was singularly free from
all sign of preoccupation or fatigue; and there was something in
his air which seemed to invite confidence and to expect submission.
The more the young clergyman scrutinised his features, the more he
was convinced that he had fallen on one capable of giving pertinent
advice.
"Sir," said he, "you will excuse my abruptness; but I judge you
from your appearance to be pre-eminently a man of the world."
"I have indeed considerable claims to that distinction," replied
the stranger, laying aside his magazine with a look of mingled
amusement and surprise.
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