He is a
failure. But, if he convey subtly (and, therefore, successfully) the
fine impression he wishes to convey, then you should stifle your
wrath, and try to pick up a few hints. When I saw my fellow-passengers
eyeing my hat-box, I did not, of course, say aloud to them, `Yes, mine
is a delightful life! Any amount of money, any amount of leisure! And,
what's more, I know how to make the best use of them both!' Had I done
so, they would have immediately seen through me as an impostor. But I
did nothing of the sort. I let my labels proclaim distinction for me,
quietly, in their own way. And they made their proclamation with
immense success. But there came among them, in course of time, one
label that would not harmonise with them. Came, at length, one label
that did me actual discredit. I happened to have had influenza, and my
doctor had ordered me to make my convalescence in a place which,
according to him, was better than any other for my particular
condition. He had ordered me to Ramsgate, and to Ramsgate I had gone.
A label on my hat-box duly testified to my obedience. At the time, I
had thought nothing of it. But, in subsequent journeys, I noticed that
my hat-box did not make its old effect, somehow. My fellow-passengers
looked at it, were interested in it; but I had a subtle sense that
they were not reverencing me as of yore.
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