"How often this sort of coincidence occurs," said Osmond philosophically.
"Do not refuse him, dear papa; it is not for money: he only wants you to
give him an order to go into a lunatic asylum."
_"Now, there is a sensible man,_" said Dr. Wycherley.
"Well, but," objected Mr. Hardie, "if he is a sensible man, why does he
want to go to an asylum?"
"Oh, they are all sensible at times," observed Mr. Osmond.
_"Singularly so,_" said Dr. Wycherley, warmly. And he showed a desire to
examine this paragon, who had the sense to know he was out of his senses.
"It would be but kind of you, sir," said Jane; "poor, poor man!" She
added, he did not like to come in, and would they mind just going out to
him?
"Oh no, not in the least: especially as you seem interested in him."
And they all three rose and went out together, and found the petitioner
at the front door. Who should it be but James Maxley!
His beard was unshaven, his face haggard, and everything about him showed
a man broken in spirit as well as fortune: even his voice had lost half
its vigour, and, whenever he had uttered a consecutive sentence or two,
his head dropped on his breast pitiably: indeed, this sometimes occurred
in the middle of a sentence, and then the rest of it died on his lips.
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