the stairs
was a long hall with two rows of doors and a window at each end. One
of the farther doors was open, but gave forth no sound. In this
direction he turned his steps,--ostensibly toward the window which was
invitingly open,--and as he passed the door he turned his head and
viewed the scene of the "examination." The place was filled with
cast-iron desks screwed to the floor and surrounded by blackboards; and
all empty except for the seat which held Janet. The Professor,
elevated on a little platform with a table before him, sat sidewise in
his chair out of regard to a set of questions which he had chalked upon
the blackboard; meanwhile he tapped the table with his fingernails and
regarded Janet with a look of great profundity. It was a speechless
process; he wrote the questions on the blackboard, she wrote the
answers on the paper. Janet, evidently perplexed, bit the end of her
penholder. She turned her eyes to the door as Steve passed and gave
him a furtive look. It made him feel as if he were a boy again and
Janet a little girl being kept after school.

He passed onward to the window. Below him was a view of the
court-house yard, and through the trees a glimpse of the short business
street. For a little while he made this the object of his attention,
then he turned about and proceeded to the window at the other end. As
he passed the door he turned his eyes again and took quick survey of
affairs inside the examination-room, The other window, being at the
back of the courthouse, opened upon a wide prospect; in the near
distance were tree-hidden cottages, beyond this scene was the stretch
of prairie again. Steve sat down on the sill to wait. But in a little
while he got up and went back to the first window. When he passed the
door again the young lady blushed.

Janet was now in the very midst of that dread ordeal known as a "test."
She was being tried for her life,--which is to say her living,--and her
speechless inquisitor made the most of his attainments. "Give the
source and course of the Volga." Having writ down that cold-blooded
query he ascended his dais again and suppressed all feelings of
triumph. Janet again put the pen-holder to her teeth. Evidently this
was more than the young lady was able to "give." He drummed on the
wood with his finger-nails; otherwise he sat before her like patience
on a pedestal. His single spectator, feeling herself no match for such
a brain, was beginning t