Mr. Incoul’s Misadventure

Mr. Incoul’s Misadventure

By Edgar Saltus.

Table of Contents

1. Titlepage
2. Imprint
3. Epigraph
4. Dedication
5. Mr. Incoul’s Misadventure
   1. I: Mr. Incoul
   2. II: Miss Barhyte Agrees to Change Her Name
   3. III: After Darkness
   4. IV: An Evening Call
   5. V: A Yellow Envelope
   6. VI: Biarritz
   7. VII: What May Be Seen from a Palco
   8. VIII: An Unexpected Guest
   9. IX: Mr. Incoul Dines in Spain
   10. X: The Point of View
   11. XI: The House in the Parc Monceau
   12. XII: Mr. Incoul Is Preoccupied
   13. XIII: What May Be Heard in a Greenroom
   14. XIV: Karl Grows a Moustache
   15. XV: May Expostulates
   16. XVI: The Bare Bodkin
   17. XVII: Maida’s Nuptials
   18. XVIII: Mr. Incoul Goes Over the Accounts
6. Colophon
7. Uncopyright

Imprint

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“And thine eye shall not pity.”

Deuteronomy 19:21

To
E. A. S

Mr. Incoul’s Misadventure

I

Mr. Incoul

When Harmon Incoul’s wife died, the world in which he lived said that he would not marry again. The bereavement which he had suffered was known to be bitter, and it was reported that he might betake himself to some foreign land. There was, for that matter, nothing to keep him at home. He was childless, his tastes were too simple to make it necessary for him to reside as he had, hitherto, in New York, and, moreover, he was a man whose wealth was proverbial. Had he so chosen, he had little else to do than to purchase a ticket and journey wheresoever he listed, and the knowledge of this ability may have been to him not without its consolations. Yet, if he attempted to map some plan, and think which spot he would prefer, he probably reflected that whatever place he might choose, he would, in the end, be not unlike the invalid who turns over in his bed, and then turns back again on finding the second position no better than the first. However fair another sky might be, it would not make his sorrow less acute.

He was then one of those men whose age is difficult to determine. He had married when quite young, and at the time of his widowerhood he must have been nearly forty, but years had treated him kindly. His hair, it is true, was inclined to scantiness, and his skin was etiolated, but he was not stout, his teeth were sound, he held himself well, and his eyes had not lost their lustre. At a distance, one might have thought him in the thirties, but in conversation his speech was so measured, and about his lips there was a compression such that the ordinary observer fancied him older than he really was.

His position was unexceptionable. He had inherited a mile of real estate in a populous part of New York, together with an accumulation of securities sufficient for the pay and maintenance of a small army. The foundations of this wealth had been laid by an ancestor, materially increased by his grandfather, and consolidated by his father, who had married a Miss Van Tromp, the ultimate descendant of the Dutch admiral.

His boyhood had not been happy. His father had been a lean, taciturn, unlovable man, rigid in principles, stern in manner, and unyielding in his adherence to the narrowest tenets of Presbyterianism. His mother had died while he was yet in the nursery, and, in the absence of any softening influence, the angles of his earliest nature were left in the rough.

At school, he manifested a vindictiveness of disposition which made him feared and disliked. One day, a comrade raised the lid of a desk adjoining his own. The raising of the lid was abrupt and possibly intentional. It jarred him in a task. The boy was dragged from him senseless and bleeding. In college, he became aggrieved at a tutor. For three weeks he had him shadowed, then, having discovered an irregularity in his private life, he caused to be laid before the faculty sufficient evidence to insure his removal. Meanwhile, acting presumably on the principle that an avowed hatred is powerless, he treated the tutor as though the grievance had been forgotten. A little later, owing to some act of riotous insubordination, he was himself expelled, and the expulsion seemed to have done him good. He went to Paris and listened decorously to lectures at the Sorbonne, after which he strayed to Heidelberg, where he sat out five semesters without fighting a duel or making himself ill with beer. In his fourth summer abroad, he met the young lady who became his wife. His father died, he returned to New York, and thereafter led a