In a bare room, at a bare table, by an ill-to-do dip candle, sat Mr. Glanbally and his book. The book on the table, and Mr. Glanbally's face on the book, as near as possible; and both as near as possible under the candle. Reason enough for that, when the very blaze of a candle looked so little like giving light. Was that why Mr. Glanbally's eyes almost touched the letters? Winthrop wondered he could see them at all; but probably he did, for he did not look up to see anything else. He had taken the opening and shutting of the door to be by some wonted hand. Winthrop stood still a minute. There was nothing remarkable about his future preceptor, except his position. He was a little, oldish man -- that was all. Winthrop moved a step or two, and then looking hastily up, the little man pushed the candle one way and the book another, and peered at his visitor. "Ah! -- Do you wish to see me, sir?" "I wish to see Mr. Glanbally." "That's my name, sir, -- that's right." Winthrop came a step nearer and laid a letter on the table. The old gentleman took it up, examined the outside, and then went on to scan what was within, holding the lines in the same fearful proximity to his face; so near indeed, that to Winthrop's astonishment when he got to the bottom of the page he made no scruple of turning over the leaf with his nose. The letter was folded, and then Mr. Glanbally rose to his feet. "Well, sir, and so you have come to take a place in our Academy for a spell -- I am glad to see you -- sit down." Which Winthrop did; and Mr. Glanbally sat looking at him, a little business-like, a little curious, a little benevolent. "What have you studied?" "Very little, sir, -- of anything." "Your father says, his second son -- What was the name of the other?" "William, sir." "William what?" "Landholm." "William Landholm -- yes, I recollect -- I couldn't make out exactly whether it was _Sandball_ or _Lardner_ -- Mr. Landholm -- Where is your brother now, sir?" "He is at Little River, sir, going on with his studies." "He made very good progress -- very good indeed -- he's a young man of talent, your brother. He's a smart fellow. He's going on to fit himself to enter college, ain't he?" "Yes sir." "He'll do well -- he can do what he's a mind. Well, Mr. Landholm -- what are _you_ going to turn your hand to?" "I have hardly determined, sir, yet." "You'll see your brother -- something, I don't know what, one of these days, and you'll always be his brother, you know. Now what are you going to make of yourself? -- merchant or farmer?" "Neither, sir." "No?" -- said Mr. Glanbally. He looked a little surprised, for Mr. Landholm's letter had spoken of "a few weeks." "Well, what then?" "I don't know what I shall like best, sir," said Winthrop.