Unlike the majority of his set, Adrien Leroy was never lonely; indeed,
solitude to him was a pleasure, and one--the only one--which was
difficult to obtain. Endued with a fine intellect and highly cultivated
mind, even at college he had succeeded in studying when his companions
had spent their time in "ragging," and other senseless occupations of a
like nature. Thrown on his own resources, therefore, Leroy could have
become a power in almost any of the artistic professions. Instead, his
time, his youth and his faculties were being wasted in the ordinary
pursuits of the people amongst whom he lived. Had he been a poorer man,
he might have risen to any height by virtue of his own talents; but,
lapped in luxury, lulled by the homage of society, he remained
dissatisfied, discontented, and apathetic.
The clock, striking eight, aroused him. Throwing aside the cigar which
had burnt itself out, he rose. He had promised Jasper to come down to
the Casket Theatre; and, however weary he might be of the tinsel and
glitter, yet he never thought of making an excuse, or of breaking his
word.
He was about to set forth, when Norgate announced "Lord Standon," and
though Adrien's greeting was as courteous as usual, the old genial
warmth was gone.
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