dley felt as if he had been rapidly struck on the forehead with a
dozen distinct blows from a hammer not quite big enough to stun him. He
sat still without saying a word. He had forgotten for the moment all
about poor Gifted Hopkins, who had got out his manuscript at last, and
was calming the disturbed corners of it. Coming to himself a little, he
took a large and beautiful silk handkerchief, one of his new purchases,
from his pocket, and applied it to his face, for the weather seemed to
have grown very warm all at once. Then he remembered the errand on which
he had come, and thought of this youth, who had got to receive his first
hard lesson in life, and whom he had brought to this kind man that it
should be gently administered.

"You surprise me," he said,--"you surprise me. Dead and buried. Dead and
buried. I had sometimes thought that--at some future period, after I was
gone, it might--but I hardly know what to say about your suggestions.
But here is my young friend, Mr. Hopkins, who would like to talk with
you, and I will leave him in your hands. I am at the Planet Hotel, if you
should care to call upon me. Good morning. Mr. Hopkins will explain
everything to you more at his ease, without me, I am confident."

Master Gridley could not quite make up his mind to stay through the
interview between the young poet and the publisher. The flush of hope
was bright in Gifted's eye and cheek, and the good man knew that young
hearts are apt to be over-sanguine, and that one who enters a shower-bath
often feels very differently from the same person when he has pulled the
string.

"I have brought you my Poems in the original autographs, sir," said Mr.
Gifted Hopkins.

He laid the manuscript on the table, caressing the leaves still with one
hand, as loath to let it go.

"What disposition had you thought of making of them?" the publisher
asked, in a pleasant tone. He was as kind a man as lived, though he
worked the chief engine in a chamber of torture.

"I wish to read you a few specimens of the poems," he said, "with
reference to their proposed publication in a volume."

"By all means," said the kind publisher, who determined to be very
patient with the protege of the hitherto little-known, but remarkable
writer, Professor Gridley. At the same time he extended his foot in an
accidental sort of way, and pressed it on the right hand knob of three
which were arranged in a line beneath the table. A little bell in a