The Professor in the front room declaimed to the new pupil a passage from the “Merchant of Venice,” from the centre of the carpet, and then invited him to repeat it, which Erb did, the Professor arresting him at every line, correcting the accent with acerbity and calling attention to the aspirates with something like tears. “Why don’t you speak naturally, sir?” demanded the Professor, hitting his own chest with his fist, “as I dew?” At the end of twenty minutes, when the Professor had furnished some really valuable rules in regard to the artifices of voice production, he gave a sudden dramatic start, and begged Erb for pity’s sake not to tell him that the day was Thursday and the hour half-past seven. On Erb admitting his inability to give him other information without stepping beyond the confines of truth, the Professor strode up and down the worn carpet in a state of great agitation, declaring that unless he were in the Strand by eight fifteen, or, at the very latest, eight twenty that evening, he would, in all probability, lose the chance of a lifetime. “What am I to do?” he asked imploringly. “I appeal to you, laddie? Show me where duty calls?” On Erb suggesting that perhaps Miss Rosalind would finish the lesson, the Professor shook him warmly by both hands and ordered heaven in a dictatorial way to rain down blessings on the head of his pupil. One difficulty remained. Time pressed, and every moment was (in all probability) golden. Could Mr. Barnes, as an old friend, oblige with half a—no, not half a crown, two shillings. The Professor, in the goodness of his heart, did not mind four sixpences, and hurrying out into the passage, struggled into a long brown overcoat of the old Newmarket shape, took his soft hat, and, having called over the banisters to his daughter to favour him with a moment’s conversation, bustled through the passage whispering to Erb, “You can explain better than I,” and going out, closed the door quietly. There were signs of flour on the girl’s plump arms as she came up; she rolled down the sleeves of the pink blouse as she entered the front room. Her forehead contracted as she listened. “How much did he borrow?” she asked, checking a sigh. “Nothing,” replied Erb boldly. “Two shillings or a half a crown?” “But I couldn’t possibly think for a moment—” he began protestingly. “I wish you had,” she said. “Take it, please. I don’t want father to run into debt if I can help it.” “Makes me feel as though I’m robbing you.” “Do you know,” said Miss Rosalind, with not quite half a smile, “it makes me feel as though I were being robbed. Let us get on with the lesson, please; I have another pupil coming at half-past eight.” Erb, for a hot moment, was consumed with unreasonable jealousy of the next pupil. “She is always punctual,” added Rosalind, and Erb became cooler. “Take this book, please, and read aloud the passage I have marked.”