"Which reminds me," said Eric. "There is nothing to pay on receiving a telegram! Shall we enquire for one?" And he and Lady Muriel strolled off in the direction of the Telegraph-Office.
"I wonder if Shakespeare had that thought in his mind," I said, "when he wrote 'All the world's a stage'?"
The old man sighed. "And so it is," he said, "look at it as you will. Life is indeed a drama; a drama with but few encores——and no bouquets!" he added dreamily. "We spend one half of it in regretting the things we did in the other half!"
"And the secret of enjoying it," he continued, resuming his cheerful tone, "is intensity!"
"But not in the modern æsthetic sense, I presume? Like the young lady, in Punch, who begins a conversation with 'Are you intense?'"
"By no means!" replied the Earl. "What I mean is intensity of thought——a concentrated attention. We lose half the pleasure we might have in Life, by not really attending. Take any instance you like: it doesn't matter how trivial the pleasure may be——the principle is
