ld be upon the door-plates and the wire-blinds of the
establishment. But of course she was not in a position to estimate the
full significance of this remarkable phenomenon. Further, though she
perfectly remembered her mother's observations upon Mr. Cannon's status,
they did not in the slightest degree damage him in her eyes--when once
those eyes had been set on him again. They seemed to her inessential.
The essential, for her, was the incontestable natural authority and
dignity of his bearing.

She sat down, self-consciously, in the chair--opposite the owner's
chair--which she had occupied at her first visit, and thus surveyed,
across the large flat desk, all the ranged documents and bundles with
the writing thereon upside down. There also was his blotting-pad, and
his vast inkstand, and his pens, and his thick diary. The disposition of
the things on the desk seemed to indicate, sharply and incontrovertibly,
that orderliness, that inexorable efficiency, which more than aught else
she admired in the external conduct of life. The spectacle satisfied
her, soothed her, and seemed to explain the attractiveness of Mr.
Cannon.

Immediately to her left was an open bookcase almost filled with heavy
volumes. The last of a uniform row of Law Reports was absent from its
place--being at that moment in the corridor, in the hands of Mr. Cannon.
The next book, a thin one, had toppled over sideways and was bridging
the vacancy at an angle; several other similar thin books filled up the
remainder of the shelf. She stared, with the factitious interest of one
who is very nervously awaiting an encounter, at the titles, and
presently deciphered the words, 'Victor Hugo,' on each of the thin
volumes. Her interest instantly became real. Characteristically abrupt
and unreflecting, she deposited her basket on the floor and, going to
the bookcase, took out the slanting volume. Its title was _Les Rayons et
Les Ombres_. She opened it by hazard at the following poem, which had no
heading and which stood, a small triptych of print, rather solitary in
the lower half of a large white page:

Dieu qui sourit et qui donne
Et qui vient vers qui l'attend
Pourvu que vous soyez bonne,
Sera content.
Le monde ou tout etincelle,
Mais ou rien n'est enflamme,
Pourvu que vous soyez belle,
Sera charme.
Mon coeur, dans l'ombre amoureuse,
Ou l'enivrent deux beaux yeux,
Pourvu que tu sois heureuse,