Now, however, he was really determined to do something definite—to lead a new life and put his wealth to some use. So he made up his mind to marry and to go into Parliament.
The parliamentary career was a question of time. There was much to be done before he essayed that. He must get his name before the public a little first, make up his mind what his polities were going to be, and get about into society.
With regard to matrimony, he felt that the sooner he thought seriously about that the better. There is a certain formula to be gone through, even in the prosaic courtship which he intended his to be. He wanted a certain amount of beauty, a knowledge of the world, and an agreeable manner. He wanted to marry a head to his dinner-table, a hostess, a something to be agreeable to his guests, and to get him invited out. Wealth or rank he wasn’t particular about; that would be harder to get, and he might have a lot of rivalry.
He stood in front of the glass and ran his fingers through his hair.
Yes, he was fairly good-looking, still young, wealthy, and a pleasant talker.
There was no reason why he should not secure just what he wanted if he kept his eyes open. He didn’t want to fall in love; he had no idea of anything of that sort.
And yet he did.
His fate came to him as it comes to the most unromantic men. It came to him about a fortnight after his interview with Birnie.
In his first desire to get his name well connected with philanthropy for future benefit to himself, he gave twenty pounds to a bazaar in connection with some hospital for children, or something of the sort. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he saw that the appeals were going all over the parish, and so he sent his twenty pounds, to beat his neighbours and get his first advertisement.
His donation brought him a letter of thanks from the vicar and a special request to be present.