It was no longer our world; its standards, its thoughts, its pleasures, were not for us.

We were not lonely in it; on the contrary, when the first impression of strangeness wore off, we were happier than we had ever been in the old days.

Our reputation was no longer in the breath of men; our fortune was no longer at the mercy of rising or falling markets; our plans and hopes were no longer subject to chance and change.

We had a possession in the Forest of Arden, and we had friends and dreams there beyond the empire of time and fate.

And when we compared the security of our fortunes with the vicissitudes to which the estates of our neighbours were exposed; when we compared our noble-hearted friends with their meaner companionships; when we compared the peaceful serenity of our hearts with their perplexities and anxieties, we were filled with inexpressible sympathy.