At last she came into my room, and throwing herself down on the white bear-skin rug before the grate, she exclaimed, with a little groan, “There, I’ve done it, though it was the most painful thing I ever did in my life. I felt that I must seem so mean and arrogant to make myself the arbiter of the fate of a man like him, and to dictate terms which must have been horribly humiliating. Think of my setting myself up to instruct a man who has deserved the honor of the friendship of men like Mazzini and Von Moltke and Carlyle and Sumner.” “How did you begin?” I queried, realizing for the first time what a difficult thing this must have been to a generous-hearted girl like Mildred. “Oh,” she said, “I began by reminding him of his kindness to papa, and assuring him that I was ready and glad to be of assistance to him. He looked so grateful that I found it almost impossible to screw up my courage to continue. But, after stammering over it a minute, I put on a bold front and went on to say that I felt it my duty to make my gift, for it was to be a gift, not a loan, upon certain stringent conditions in order that similar circumstances might not occur again. I would state what they were, and then he might consult with his family and let me know whether he would accept them or not. “He replied sadly, ‘I am in your hands, Miss Brewster. There is no question of my volition in the matter.’ “It almost brought the tears to my eyes, Ruby, for he did look so grand and noble, and it was so pathetic to think of a man of his powers forced to humble himself before a girl like me. He said that for years this shadow of debt had been over him, making life a purgatory for him, which is true enough. I hear that he has long been borrowing from every one of his own and his wife’s relatives, and has mortgaged everything they own, even her jewels. One wonders what he can be made of to have endured such shame and yet to have counted it less shame than to live in a small, economical way within his income. But he spoke of his debts with all the ingenuousness of a child, just as though they were an affliction sent by Providence, for which he was in no wise responsible, and I really think that he felt them so. “‘My first condition,’ I said, ‘is that you shall give me a full and accurate statement of your financial affairs, including old debts which are not pressing, insurance, mortgages, and everything of a money nature.’ “Secondly, I asked that none of his children should receive private lessons in dancing, French, or anything else, which were not paid for in full in advance. I could see that this was a very bitter thing for the General. One of his daughters is a girl of artistic talent, and he has been giving her expensive lessons in painting, for which, as I knew, he has never paid.