At the word "please," the lawyer started in surprise. In a moment he growled, "Compromise. Learn to consider the rights and wishes of other people. The compromise is a most valuable instrument in bringing about domestic happiness," and with this sage advice, Hezekiah, the bachelor, left his employer. Stricken low by physical disorder and verbal assaults, it was a day of gloomy forebodings to Obadiah. After Hezekiah's oration, the path ahead, usually certain and clear to him, seemed beset with obstacles and lined with eyes of hatred. When he went home that night there seemed to be a stoop in his usually erect carriage and a deep anxiety dwelt in his eyes. Hardly touching his dinner, he sat through it, in his dining room, plunged in thought. Serena marked the change in the behavior of her employer with great interest. Returning to the kitchen, she told Ike, "Mr. Devil done sna'ah dat ole man wid er bait o' shinin' gol'. Now he gwine hawg tie 'im wid hot chains outen de fu'nace o' to'ment so dat he kin tote 'im to de aige o' de bottomless pit an' cas' 'im into de fiah an' brimstone. Dat ole man is er strivin' mighty fie'ce to git loose. He's er gnawin' off er leg to git outen de sn'ah, as de hot i'on burns 'im an' de brimstone smoke choke 'im." The chauffeur, being for the moment in high favor, was enjoying a piece of pie as a fitting appetizer for his later dinner. "He ain' lif' up his voice in prah or mek no sign er tall," responded the youth, giving close attention to the pastry and but little heed to the demoniacal trapping going on in the neighborhood. "Dey's er fightin' ete'nally, boy," explained Serena with scorn. Ike rolled his eyes, exposing large areas of white until they rested upon the woman. "Ain' you mek er mistake, Miss Sereny?" he suggested respectfully. "Ain' you mean infe'nally?" "Look yere, boy," she retorted with great dignity, "ah ain' er astin' no trash lak yo'all to teach me nothin'. Ah gits ma 'ligion f'om de good book in de chu'ch house. Min' you' own business." Obadiah retired early and again tossed backwards and forwards through long hours. Hezekiah had indeed torn aside a concealing veil from the manufacturer's life. Obadiah was not a man given to introspection, but, for the first time in years, the words of his attorney had forced it upon him. Tonight his boasted accomplishments were nothing, while episodes which he would have gladly forgotten loomed large. Above all else a great loneliness and fear of the future crushed him. In this hour of deepest humility, recollections of his wife and the far away days of his married life came to him. Sweet and tender memories these, of occurrences almost forgotten. He softened to them, and moments followed when it was as if the spirit of Elinor Dale had crossed the span of years and labored with the troubled soul of the selfish, obstinate, purse-proud old rich man until at last, Obadiah--slept in peace.