unremunerative post of secretary, he gave no evidence of it. Possibly it
did not seem strange to him that this young man should show interest in
the work the Judge himself had laid out with an absorbing enthusiasm.
Therefore a trial arrangement was soon made, and Richard Kendrick agreed
to present himself in Judge Gray's library on the following morning at
ten o'clock. The only stipulation he made was that if, for any reason,
he should decide suddenly to go upon a journey he had had some time in
contemplation, he should be allowed to provide a substitute. He had not
yet so completely surrendered to his impulse that he was not careful to
leave himself a loophole of escape.

The young man laughed to himself all the way down the avenue. What would
his grandfather say? What would his friends say? His friends should not
know--confound them!--it was none of their business. He would have his
evenings; he would appear at his clubs as usual. If comments were made
upon his absence at other hours he would quietly inform the observing
ones that he had gone to work, but would refuse to say where. It
certainly was a joke, his going to work; not that his grandfather had
not often and strenuously recommended it, saying that the boy would
never know happiness until he shook hands with labour; not that he
himself had not fully intended some day to go into the training
necessary to the assuming of the cares incident to the handling of a
great fortune. But thus far--well, he had never been ready to begin. One
journey more, one more long voyage--

Her eyes--had they been blue or black? Blue, he was quite sure, although
the masses of her hair had been like night for dusky splendour, and her
cheeks of that rich bloom which denotes young vigour and radiant health.
He could hear her voice now, quoting a serious poet to fit a madcap
mood--and quoting him in such a voice! What were the words? He