"You'll like Parkman; and he'll like you. By Jove, he's got to! You mustn't mind if he snaps your head off occasionally. His life's made him savage, but even his life--he's had an awful one, Ernestine--couldn't make him vicious. He's the gruffest, snarliest, biggest man I ever knew--meaner than the devil, and the best friend on top of earth. And Lord, how he works! I don't know any other three men could swing the same load. And I tell you, Ernestine, he's great. There's not a better surgeon in all Europe. Parkman's a tremendous help to me. Oh, it's going to be _great_ to get back!" "We have some really nice things for our house," mused Ernestine. "I'm glad we decided to take that rug for the library. Of course it seemed pretty high, but a library without a nice rug wouldn't do at all--not for us." "No--that's right--library without a rug--now I wonder if I am to have my old eight o'clock lecture hour? I _want_ that hour! I want to get all the school business out of the way in the morning. I must have plenty of uninterrupted time for myself. I tell you what it is, Ernestine, I'm going to _get_ it! What I saw over there of the other fellows makes me all the more sure of myself. And coming back now after being made all over new--you see there's such a thing as inspiration in my work, just as there is in yours. Of course it's work--work--work, work your way through this and that, but there's something or other that leads you on--and I _know_ I'm going to do something now!" "I know it too, Karl," she responded, and the steadfastness shone strong through the tenderness now. "We all know it." "I've got to," he murmured--"got to." And then his whole mind seized upon it; some suggestion had come to him, some of that inspiration of which he had spoken. He sat there looking straight ahead, brows drawn, eyes sometimes half closing, occasionally nodding his head as he saw a point more clearly. He looked in such moments as though indeed made for conquest,--indomitable. One could almost feel his mind at work, could fancy the skillful cutting away of error, the inevitable working ahead to truth. At last he turned to her. "There's no reason for not beginning to-morrow," he said, with the eagerness of a boy who would try a new gun or fishing rod. "There are a whole lot of things I want to get right at now." CHAPTER VI "GLORIA VICTIS" "We'll just put our Russian friend back here in the corner, where the shelf suppresses him," said Georgia, who seemed to have accepted the self-appointed position of head cataloguer. "Some of the students might happen to call." "This," said Dr. Parkman, who was dusting Gibbon's Rome, "is the sort of thing that is called the backbone of a library." "Consequently," replied Georgia glibly, "we will put it up here on the top shelf. Nobody wants a library's backbone. It's to be had, not read. Now the trimmings, like our friend Mr. Shaw here, must be given places of accessibility."