face. Archaeologists are not above reading personal paragraphs and
leaders about themselves, though current events do not interest them. So
absorbing is their pursuit of antiquity that they are obliged to affect a
plausible indifference and a refined ignorance about modern affairs. Nor
are they very generous members of the community. Perhaps dealing in dead
gods, perpetually handling precious objects which have ceased to have any
relation to life, or quarrelling about languages no one ever uses, blunts
their sensibilities. At all events, they have none of that loyalty
distinguishing members of other learned professions. The canker of
jealousy eats perpetually at their hearts.

Professor Lachsyrma was too well endowed by fortune to grudge his former
colleagues their little incomes or inadequate salaries at the Museum.
Still, his recent discovery would not only enhance his fame in the
learned world and his reputed _flair_ for manuscripts--it would irritate
those rivals in England and Germany who, in the more solemn reviews,
resisted some of his conclusions, canvassed his facts, and occasionally
found glaring errors in his texts. How jealous the discovery would make
young Fairleigh, for all his unholy knowledge of Greek vases, his
handsome profile, and his predilection for going too frequently into
society!--a taste not approved by other officials. How it would anger
old Gully! Professor Lachsyrma drank some more tea with further
satisfaction. Sappho herself could not have felt more elated on the
completion of one of her odes; we know she was poignant and sensitive.
Thus for a whole hour he idled with his thoughts--rare occupation for so
industrious a man. He was startled from the reverie by a slight knock at
his door.

'Come in,' he said coldly. There was a touch of annoyance in his tone.
Visitors, frequent enough in the morning, rarely disturbed him in the