"

The strange man, savant, scientist, bibliophile, whatever he was, drew
his dirty dressing-gown around him with another flourish of complacent
self-admiration.

"I am--you are quite right, Mr. Clergyman--a great reader. I have read
every book in this room two, three, many times over. You
were--surprised--to see all this book, all this document, all this
pamphlette--here, at this place, eh?"

Ringfield, as yet only partly guessing at the peculiarities of his
host, assented politely.

"My name is Ringfield," he said, noting for the first time the strong
broken accent of the other and his use of French idiom. "I am a
Methodist minister, spending some time at St. Ignace, and yesterday I
encountered a lady, who, I believe, lives here. At least, I----"

The other cut him short.

"Ringfield? That is your name? _Anneau, champ_--no the other way,
Champanneau. We have not this name with us. Yet, I do not know, it
may be a good name."

The young man was superior to the slighting tone because he belonged to
the class which lives by work, and which has not traced or kept track
of its genealogy. He was so far removed from aristocratic tendencies,
ideas of caste, traditions of birth, that he scarcely apprehended the
importance of such subjects in the mind of anyone.

"The English name, Champney," continued the man in the chair, "you know
that--might derive from it, might derive. But I am not so well
acquainted with the English names as with the French. You _comprenez
pour quoi, sans doute_. I am derive--myself, from a great French name,
a great family."

The satisfaction with which he repeated this oracular statement
continued to amuse Ringfield, a son of the people, his friends of the
people, but it did not amuse the third person who heard it, the lady
who, advancing into the dark stuffy room, received a pleased glance
from the minister and a half-fearful, half-defiant scowl from the man
in the chair.

"Henry!" exclaimed she, with great volubility and a kind of fierce
disgust, "how is this? What can you mean by so disobeying me? This is
no place to bring strangers! Nor do I want strangers brought into any
part of this house at any time of the day! It is suffocating here. Do
you not find it very heavy, very close in here?" she added, to
Ringfield, who had risen and slightly changed countenance as she
pronounced the word "stranger".

He looked from the lady to the man in the chair in astonishment, for