"Not one!" said Salmon, with gloomy emphasis. "Ah, that is unfortunate!" He expected nothing less than that the Frenchman would add,--"Then I must place my son elsewhere." But no; he was polite as ever; he was charming. "You should have many before now. I have spoken for you to my friends. But patience, my dear Sir. You will succeed. In mean time we will wait." And with a cordial hand-shake, and a Parisian flourish, he smilingly passed on, leaving a gleam of sunshine on the young man's path. Now Salmon was one who would never, if he could help it, abandon an undertaking in which he had once embarked. But when convinced that persistence was hopeless, then, however reluctantly, he would give it up. On the present occasion, he was not only spending his time and exhausting his energies in a pursuit which grew each day more and more dubious, but his conscience was stung with the thought that he was wronging others. Kind as Mrs. Markham was to him, he did not like to look her in the face and feel that he owed her a debt which was always increasing, and which he knew not how he should ever pay. "Why don't you get a place in the Department?" said Williams, that enviable fellow, who had light duties, several hours each day to himself, and eight hundred a year! "That's more easily said than done!" And Salmon shook his head. "No, it isn't!" The fortunate Williams sat with his legs upon the table, one foot on the other, a pipe in his mouth, and a book in his hand, enjoying himself. "You have an uncle in the Senate. Ask him to use his influence for you. He can get you a place." And puffing a fragrant cloud complacently into the air, he returned to his pleasant reading. Salmon walked the room. He went out and walked the street. A sore struggle was taking place in his breast. Should he give up the school? Should he go and ask this thing of his uncle? Oh, for somebody to whom he could go for counsel and sympathy! "Williams is perhaps right I may wait a year, and not get another pupil. Meanwhile I am growing shabby. I need a new pair of boots. My washerwoman must be paid. Why not get a clerkship as a temporary thing, if nothing more? My uncle can get it for me, without any trouble to himself. It is not like asking him for money." Yet he dreaded to trouble the Senator even thus much. Proud and sensitive natures do not like to beg favors, any way. "I'll wait one day longer. Then, if not a pupil applies, I'll go to my uncle--" He waited twenty-four hours. Not a pupil. Then, desperate and discouraged at last, Salmon buttoned his coat, and walked fast through the streets to his uncle's boarding-house. It was evening. The Senator was at home. "Well, Salmon?" inquiringly. "How do you get on?" "Poorly," said Salmon, sitting down, with his hat on his knee.