conceptions of a half-developed mind.

"Quite so, quite so, Jean Jacques," M. Fille responded gently, "but"
--here came a firmer note to his voice, for he had taken to heart the
lesson M. Mornay had taught him, and he was determined to do his duty now
when the opportunity was in his hand--"but you have got to deal with
things as they are; not as they might have been. If you cannot have the
great men you have to deal with the little men like me. You have to
prove yourself bigger than the rest of us by doing things better. A man
doesn't fail only because of others, but also because of himself. You
were warned that the chances were all against you in the case that's just
been decided, yet you would go on; you were warned that your cousin,
Auguste Charron, was in debt, and that his wife was mad to get away from
the farm and go West, yet you would take no notice. Now he has gone, and
you have to pay, and your case has gone against you in the Appellate
Court besides. . . . I will tell you the truth, my friend, even if it
cuts me to the heart. You have not kept your judgment in hand; you have
gone ahead like a bull at a gate; and you pay the price. You listen to
those who flatter, and on those who would go through fire and water for
you, you turn your back--on those who would help you in your hour of
trouble, in your dark day."

Jean Jacques drew himself up with a gesture, impatient, masterful and
forbidding. "I have fought my fight alone in the dark day; I have not
asked for any one's help," he answered. "I have wept on no man's
shoulder. I have been mauled by the claws of injury and shame, and I
have not flinched. I have healed my own wounds, and I wear my scars
without--"

He stopped, for there came a sharp rat-tat-tat at the door which opened