yet of what he may have
to say, but it will be well that you should avoid him if possible. When I
have heard anything I will tell you all." Then he hurried down and found
the man examining the book-shelves.

"You have got yourself up pretty tidy again, Peacocke," said Lefroy.

"Pretty well."

"The old game, I suppose. Teaching the young idea. Is this what you call
a college, now, in your country?"

"It is a school."

"And you're one of the masters."

"I am the second master."

"It ain't as good, I reckon, as the Missouri College."

"It's not so large, certainly."

"What's the screw?" he said.

"The payment, you mean. It can hardly serve us now to go into matters
such as that. What is it that has brought you here, Lefroy?"

"Well, a big ship, an uncommonly bad sort of railway car, and the
ricketiest little buggy that ever a man trusted his life to. Them's
what's brought me here."

"I suppose you have something to say, or you would not have come," said
Peacocke.

"Yes, I've a good deal to say of one kind or another. But here's the
breakfast, and I'm well-nigh starved. What, cold meat! I'm darned if I
can eat cold meat. Haven't you got anything hot, my dear?" Then it was
explained to him that hot meat was not to be had, unless he would choose
to wait, to have some lengthened cooking accomplished. To this, however,
he objected, and then the girl left the room.

"I've a good many things to say of one kind or another," he continued.
"It's difficult to say, Peacocke, how you and I stand with each other."

"I do not know that we stand with each other at all, as you call it."

"I mean as to relationship. Are you my brother-in-law, or are you not?"
This was a question which in very truth the schoolmaster found it hard to
answer. He did not answer it at all, but remained silent. "Are you my
brother-in-law, or are you not? You call her Mrs. Peacocke, eh?"

"Yes, I call her Mrs. Peacocke."

"And she is here living with you?"

"Yes, she is here."

"Had she not better come down and see me? She is my sister-in-law,
anyway."

"No," said Mr. Peacocke; "I think, on the whole, that she had better not
come down and see you."

"You don't mean to say she isn't my sister-in-law? She's that, whatever
else she is. She's that, whatever name she goes by. If Ferdinand had
been ever so much dead, and that marriage at St. Louis had been ever so
good, still she'd been my sister-in-law."

"Not a doub