dress, the form is graceful, and every motion and gesture indicate a
culture that must have been imbibed in a very different sphere.

How I have her before me at this instant, as, hearing my childish
footstep at the door, she pulls the string to admit me, and then,
turning from her frame, kneels down to kiss me! Monsieur Joseph, for
so is the Latin master called, stands just within the doorway, as if
waiting to be invited to come further.

"And how has he been to-day,--a good boy?" asks she.

Monsieur Joseph smiles, and nods his head.

"I'm glad of it; Jasper will always behave well. He will know that to do
right is a duty, and a duty fulfilled is a blessing. What says Monsieur
Gervois,--is he content too?"

"Quite so," I reply. "He said I knew my hymn perfectly, and that if I
learned the two pages that he showed me, off by heart, I should be made
'elite' of my class."

"And what will that be?"

"I shall be above them all, and they must salute me when we meet out of
school and in play-hours."

"Let them do so in affection, but not for coercion, Jasper; he who is
cleverer than his fellows ought to be humbler, if he would be as happy."

"Quite true, Polly, quite true; you never said anything more just. The
conscious power of intellect tells its possessor of his weakness as well
as of his strength. Jasper, my child, be humble."

"But when I said humble," broke in she again, "I meant in self-esteem;
for there is a kind of pride that sustains and elevates us."

Monsieur Joseph only sighed gently, but never spoke.

After a few words like these, I was usually dismissed to my play-room,
a little corner eked out of an old tower which had been accidentally
joined to the house after it was built, but which to me was a boon
unspeakable, for it was all my own; but can I revel in the delight of
that isolation which each afternoon saw me enjoy? I would briefly tell
my reader, if so be that he need the information, that she who in that
worn attire bends over her task is Polly Fagan, and that Monsieur Joseph
is no other than our old acquaintance Joe Raper!

De Gabriac had married Polly secretly, Joe Raper alone being admitted
to their confidence. For months long they had watched for some favorable
opportunity of breaking the event to the old man; and at last, worn out
by care and anxiety, Polly could refrain no longer, but made the avowal
herself, and, in a few brief words, told her fault and her sorrow.

The Grinder he