"These little breaks and diversions," he was saying, as he stirred his coffee—the time of cigarettes having now arrived, "are useful things—useful things; an affair of the moment, truly; but the wise man makes of the passing moment as much as he possibly can. Why, the real curse of modern life—the ineradicable disease—is the habit of continually looking before and after. We none of us think enough of the present moment; we are anxiously speculating as to the future; or, what is worse still, fretting over the memory of past injuries and past mistakes. That is where the uneducated, the unimaginative, have their consolation; we are not half so happy and content as the stolid ploughman or the phlegmatic bricklayer who thinks only of the present heat, or the present cold, or, at furthest, of the next pint of beer, and of the prospect of getting to bed, with the knowledge that he will sleep sound. The actual and immediate things before them are the things that interest them; not the unknown future, or the useless past. But I have schooled myself, thanks in a great measure to Horace—and my granddaughter knows her Horace too—and I think I keep as stout a heart as most. _Dum loquimur_, of course, _fugerit invida ætas_; but even while I know that the night presses down upon me, and the shadowy fathers, and the empty halls of Pluto, I put the knowledge away from me; I am content with the present moment; I am more than content, for example, with this very excellent cigarette—" "Would you allow me to send you a few boxes?" interposed Vincent, at once and eagerly. "I think the cork mouthpiece is a great improvement. I know where they are to be got. May I send you some?" "I thank you; but they are not much in my way," the old man said, with a certain loftiness of demeanour. "As I was remarking, the time has gone by for unavailing regrets over what has been done to me and mine. I think I may say that throughout we have shown a bold front. ’_Stand fast, Craig-Royston!_’ has not been our watchword for nothing. And as for the future—why, ’to the gods belongs to-morrow!’ The anticipation of evil will not remove it: the recalling of bygone injuries provides no compensation. ’The present moment is our ain; the neist we never saw;’ and so, as we have had a pleasant evening so far, I think we may as well get away home again; and, Maisrie, you will get out your violin, and we’ll have some Scotch songs, and my young friend and I will taste just a drop of Scotch whisky; and if there’s any better combination than that in the world, I do not know of it." But here a very awkward incident occurred. Old George Bethune, in his grand manner, called to the waiter to bring the bill. Now Vincent had intended to steal out and arrange this little matter without allowing the young lady to have any cognisance of it; but of course the waiter, when summoned, came up to the table, and proceeded to pencil out the account.