It was said of him that when a young man he became quite enamoured of a reigning belle, who to great beauty added many far more essential prerequisites in a good wife, not the least of which in the eye of Paul was a handsome fortune left her by a distant relative.  To this young lady he paid very marked attentions for some time, but he did not stand alone in the number of her admirers.  Several others were as much interested in gaining her favourable regard as he was.

One day a friend said to him—­“Paul, have you heard the news?”

“What is it?”

Sefton has offered himself to Miss P——.”

“It a’n’t possible!  Why, I was just going to do it myself!  Has she accepted him?”

“So it is said.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t know how you will ascertain, certainly, unless you ask the lady herself,” replied the friend.

“I will find out within an hour, if I have to do what you suggest.  Sefton offered himself!  I declare, I didn’t dream that any particular intimacy existed between them.  My own mind has been made up these two or three months—­in fact, long before Sefton knew her; but I have kept procrastinating the offer of marriage I determined to make, week after week, like a fool as I am, until I have allowed another to step in and carry off the prize, if what you say be true.  But I can’t believe it.  I am sure Miss P——­wouldn’t accept any man on so short an acquaintance.”

“Sefton is a bold fellow, and prompt in all his movements,” returned the friend.  “I rather think you will find the report true.  I know that he has been paying her the closest attentions.”

“I won’t believe a word of it until I have undoubted evidence of the fact.  It can’t be!” said Paul, pacing the floor in considerable perturbation of mind.

But it was all so, as he very soon ascertained, to his deep regret and mortification at allowing another to carry off the prize he had thought his own.  When next under the influence of the tender passion, my friend took good care to do in good time just what he was going to do.

Paul was perfectly aware of his defect, and often made the very best resolutions against it, but it generally happened that they were broken as soon as made.  It was so easy to put off until the next hour, or until to-morrow, a little thing that might just as well be done now.  Generally, the thing to be done was so trifling in itself, that the effort to do it appeared altogether disproportionate at the time.  It was like exerting the strength of a giant to lift a pebble.