Greensmith and I joined old General Warne’s house-party about the third week in December. How Greensmith got in nobody ascertained with certainty, but I fancy his purse had something to do with it. Retired army men, with plenty of energy and nothing to occupy their minds, either spend their time in religious enterprises or mercantile ones; they dabble in missions and Church work, or stocks and shares, according to the bent of their genius. General Warne was one of those who go off to play in the City. There he met the ineffable Greensmith, and with some lack of wisdom invited the thing to spend Christmas at his place in Warwickshire. Now, mind you, I judge of every Johnnie by himself, and I was utterly unprejudiced in the matter of Greensmith when I first met him. I knew by the number and nature of the rings on his hand as he held it out that he wasn’t a gentleman; still, I told myself, this might be his misfortune and not his fault. A mere error of taste in jewellery is nothing. But when he opened his mouth, the horrible inner nature of the person appeared. He had the start of me by two days; yet his manners must have led you to suppose that he had enjoyed the privilege of knowing General Warne, his daughter, and his wife since they were born. Now, I really did enjoy such a position so far as the General’s family was concerned. At five years of age I had proposed marriage to Millicent Warne and been accepted. Later on, when I was ten, the engagement was broken off by mutual understanding; but four years afterwards, when I had reached the age of fourteen, she twelve, and when we were both pretty well alive to the hollowness of the world, the engagement was renewed. I only mention this trifle to show what my relations with the Warnes amounted to. At the beginning of this narrative Millicent and I had been for many years detached. Our friendship was still sincere, but platonic, and we could discuss our romances without emotion. Indeed, on the very occasion of this house-party we had a conversation upon the subject of marriage. I was now twenty, Millicent two years younger, and we drew bright pictures of the single state, and encouraged one another to be resolute in our lofty ambition of sticking to it.