"Before I leave you to-day," said the president, turning to a pleasanter subject, "I shall give you some money. We do not, you understand, pay our probationers a fixed salary." "It is more, is it not," said Andrew, "in nature of a scholarship?" "Yes, a scholarship--for the endowment of research. You see we do not tie you down to any particular line of study. Still, I shall be happy to hear of any programme you may have drawn up." Andrew hesitated. He did not know that, to the president, he was an open book. "I dare say I can read your thoughts," said his companion. "There is an eminent person whom you would like to make your first?" Andrew admitted that this was so. "I do not ask any confidences of you," continued the president, "nor shall I discourage ambition. But I hope, Andrew, you have only in view the greatest good of the greatest number. At such a time, it is well for the probationer to ask himself two questions: Is it not self-glorification that prompts me to pick this man out from among so many? and, Am I actuated by any personal animosity? If you cannot answer both these questions in the negative, it is time to ask a third, Should I go on with this undertaking?" "In this case," said Andrew, "I do not think it is self-glory, and I am sure it is not spite. He is a man I have a very high opinion of." "A politician? Remember that we are above party considerations." "He is a politician," said Andrew, reluctantly, "but it is his politics I admire." "And you are sure his time has come? Then how do you propose to set about it?" "I thought of calling at his house, and putting it to him." The president's countenance fell. "Well, well," he said, "that may answer. But there is no harm in bearing in mind that persuasion is not necessarily a passive force. Without going the length of removing him yourself, you know, you could put temptation in his way." "If I know my man," said Andrew, "that will not be required." The president had drunk life's disappointments to the dregs, but it was not in his heart to damp the youth's enthusiasm. Experience he knew to be a commodity for which we pay a fancy price. "After that," said Andrew, "I thought of Henry Irving." "We don't kill actors," his companion said. It was Andrew's countenance's turn to fall now. "We don't have time for it," the president explained. "When the society was instituted, we took a few of them, but merely to get our hands in. We didn't want to bungle good cases, you see, and it did not matter so much for them." "How did you do it?" "We waited at the stage-door, and went off with the first person who came out, male or female." "But I understood you did not take up women?" "Nor do we. Theatrical people constitute a sex by themselves--like curates." "Then can't I even do the man who stands at the theatre doors, all shirt-front and diamonds?" The president shivered. "If you happen to be passing, at any rate," he said.