Eddring did not stay to see the result of his stratagem. Instead, as he found himself alone, he walked up in front of the little mirror which hung upon the wall. He gazed straight into it, examining with frowning face the reflection which he witnessed. He ran a hand across the gray-tinged hair, turned up a corner of the mustache with a reflective finger, man-fashion, and looked eagerly, searchingly, at the face which confronted him. It was a face slightly lined, a trifle tired. He stood there thinking, questioning this image. As he turned away he sighed. The wind rustled the dingy curtains at the dingy window, as he flung himself discontentedly into a chair, A bar of sunlight lay across the floor; at the window there came the sound of a song bird from a near- by tree; but these signs and sounds of an outdoor world John Eddring did not note. He felt nothing but the grim imprisonment of these dusty walls. In his soul was revolt, rebellion. He smote his hand hard upon the papers which, lay before him on the desk. "This, this," he exclaimed aloud, "this is all my life! Good God! it is to buy life, human life, human sufferings, and to buy them cheap! I swear, I can see blood on every voucher that I sign! That's my business. I must buy these things cheap; and they say I don't buy them cheap enough--they want me to put in my whole heart, and honor, and principles. Here is my salary for the month." Pie drew the slip of paper toward him and sat looking at it. "And here is the last correspondence from the superintendent. Complaints, all of it. Once I thought I should succeed. Success-yes, I have succeeded--in being absolutely wretched every day of my life. God! God! Is this all?" He pushed the papers from him and half rose, leaning over the desk, resting on his hands. "Success," he muttered again to himself. "What is it? I gave up the law and I took the salary." He paused and sighed. "At any rate," he resumed, musing still aloud, "my old mother has had a roof over her head, and has had three meals a day. Well, it's made me old. I suppose I oughtn't to mind, but oh, damn everything! Damn everything, I say!" He scattered the papers with a blow of his hand, and whirling, stood once more before the mirror, which seemed to have some unusual interest for him. He did not at first hear the step of the visitor who now entered the door and came gently up behind him. "Confound you!" cried he, suddenly, as at length he caught the footfall. "What do you mean by coming in like that?" The frail and gray-haired lady who halted at this salutation was as much startled as himself. "Why, John!" said she. "Why, John!" Turning, Eddring caught her by the hand, his face flushed. "Mother!" he cried, "I thought it was the clerk." "Why, John," repeated Mrs. Eddring, "I didn't know that you ever swore." "I don't, mother, except sometimes. The fact is--well, today I just had to." "You were thinking of something else."