of twenty-six years of Michael's life.

But there was something in the man himself which attracted
attention, and made one think of him in his absence.

I mean by this, that there was a spirit of resistance to his
destiny in him, which is very rarely found in serving-men of his
order. I remember accompanying the General "on one of his
periodical visits of inspection to the stable." He was so well
satisfied that he proposed extending his investigations to the
groom's own room.

"If you don object, Michael?" he added, with his customary
consideration for the self-respect of all persons in his
employment. Michael's color rose a little; he looked at me. "I am
afraid the young lady will not find my room quite so tidy as it
ought to be," he said as he opened the door for us.

The only disorder in the groom's room was produced, to our
surprise, by the groom's books and papers.

Cheap editions of the English poets, translations of Latin and
Greek classics, handbooks for teaching French and German "without
a master," carefully written "exercises" in both languages,
manuals of shorthand, with more "exercises" in that art, were
scattered over the table, round the central object of a
reading-lamp, which spoke plainly of studies by night. "Why, what
is all this?" cried the General. "Are you going to leave me,
Michael, and set up a school?" Michael answered in sad,
submissive tones. "I try to improve myself, sir--though I