and gradually recognized a family likeness to poor John, in whom, despite
age and infirmity, the traces of no common share of physical beauty were
still evident. And, with that quick link in ideas which mathematical
aptitude bestows, the young student at once conjectured that he saw
before him his uncle Richard. He had the discretion, however, to leave
that gentleman free to choose his own time for introducing himself,
and silently revolved the new thoughts produced by the novelty of his
situation. Mr. Richard read with notable quickness,--sometimes cutting
the leaves of the book with his penknife, sometimes tearing them open
with his forefinger, sometimes skipping whole pages altogether. Thus he
galloped to the end of the volume, flung it aside, lighted his cigar, and
began to talk. He put many questions to Leonard relative to his rearing,
and especially to the mode by which he had acquired his education; and
Leonard, confirmed in the idea that he was replying to a kinsman,
answered frankly.

Richard did not think it strange that Leonard should have acquired so
much instruction with so little direct tuition. Richard Avenel himself
had been tutor to himself. He had lived too long with our go-ahead
brethren who stride the world on the other side the Atlantic with the
seven-leagued boots of the Giant-killer, not to have caught their
glorious fever for reading. But it was for a reading wholly different
from that which was familiar to Leonard. The books he read must be new;
to read old books would have seemed to him going back in the world. He
fancied that new books necessarily contained new ideas,--a common
mistake,--and our lucky adventurer was the man of his day.

Tired with talking, he at length chucked the book he had run through to
Leonard, and taking out a pocket-book and pencil, amused himself with
calculations on some detail of his business, after which he fell into an