Orson Vane, fresh from a chilling, invigorating bath, a Japanese robe of exquisite coolness his only covering, sat regarding an addition to his furniture. It had come while he slept. It was proof that the adventure of the night had not been a mere figment of his dreams. He touched a bell. To the man who answered the call, he said: "Nevins, I have bought a new mirror. You are to observe a few simple rules in regard to this mirror. In the first place, to avoid confusion, it is always to be called the New Mirror. Is that plain? "Quite so, sir." "I may have orders to give about it, or notes to send, or things of that sort, and I want no mistakes made. In the next place, the cord that uncovers the mirror is never to be pulled, never to be touched, save at my express order. Not--under any circumstances. I do not wish the mirror used. Have you any curiosity left, Nevins? "None, sir." "So much the better. In Lord Keswick's time, I think, you still had a touch of that vice, curiosity. Your meddling got you into something of a scrape. Do you remember?" "Oh, sir," said the man, with a little gesture of shame and pain, "you didn't need reminding me. Have I ever forgotten your saving me from that foolishness?" "You're right, Nevins; I think I can trust you. But this is a greater trust than any of the others. A great deal depends; mark that; a very great deal. It is not an ordinary mirror, this one; not one of the others compares with it; it is the gem of my collection. Not a breath is to touch it, save as I command." "I'll see to it, sir." "Any callers, Nevins?" "Mr. Moncreith, sir, looked in, but left no word. And the postman." "No duns, Nevins?" "Not in person, sir." "Dear me! Is my position on the wane? When a man is no longer dunned his credit is either too good or too bad; or else his social position is declining." He picked up the tray with the letters, ran his eye over them quickly, and said, "Thank the stars; they still dun me by post. There should be a law against it; yet it is as sweet to one's vanity as an angry letter from a woman. Nevins, is the day dull or garish?" "It's what I should call bright, sir." "Then you may lay out some gloomy clothes for me. I would not add to the heat wittingly. And, Nevins!" "Yes sir." "If anyone calls before I breakfast, unless it happens to be Professor Vanlief,--Vanlief, Nevins, of the Vanliefs of New Amsterdam--say I am indisposed."