intended to be one of the leading advocates of Canada. He was not conceited. His was only the boundless hopefulness of youth coupled with the assurance which experience had already given him, that whenever he set his mind to anything, he accomplished it, no matter how many difficulties stood in the way. So he was determined to concentrate all his efforts on his work, and as for serving humanity, he could do it best, he assured himself, by being a success in his profession. He was just entering upon his second day when his advice was sought from an unexpected source and in connection with an entirely new subject. Lawyer Ed had gone out and Roderick was seated at his desk when some one entered the hall and tapped hesitatingly on the inner door. Roderick called an invitation to come in, and Mr. Alfred Wilbur, in perfect white ducks and white canvas shoes, stepped inside. "So you've come to be Mr. Brians' partner, haven't you, Mr. McRae?" he enquired. Mr. Wilbur was a well-mannered young man and had never adopted the easy familiar way of naming people which was current in the town. "Say rather his office-boy, for a while," said Roderick. Mr. Wilbur protested. "Oh, now, Mr. McRae, you're just quite too modest. Every one's saying how well you did at college and school; and that you're going to make your mark--you know you are." Roderick wondered why the young man should take such pains to be polite to him. "Did you want to see Lawyer Ed?" he asked. "No, no, thank you," he cried in alarm. "He's not in, is he? No, I just wanted to see you, Mr. McRae--not professionally you understand but--that is--personally,--on a very sacred matter." His voice dropped to a whisper, he crossed his feet in front of him, then drew them under his chair, twirled his hat, smoothed down the back of his head vigorously, and looked in dismay at the floor. "I hope I can do something for you," said Rod encouragingly, feeling sorry for his evident distress. "Thank you so much!" cried the young man gratefully. "It's about--that is--I think, an old acquaintance of yours--Miss Murray, the new teacher in the East Ward. She _is_ an old acquaintance, isn't she?" It was Roderick's turn to feel hot and look embarrassed. He answered his first client very shortly. "No, she isn't." "Oh! I thought--you went and spoke to her on the boat!" "So I did." "But you met her before surely?" asked the young man, aghast at the notion of Roderick's boldness. "Yes." "In Toronto?" "Yes." "Long ago?" "Last autumn." "Is her home there?" "I believe so. It was then." "Oh, you don't know her very well then?" "No, I don't. And I don't know why on earth I've got to be put through a catechism about it."