"By no means," put in Sir Richard; "you won the High Jump,

I believe?"

"Sir, I did," said I; "also 'Throwing the Hammer.'"

"And spent two thousand pounds per annum?" said Sir Richard.

"Sir, I did, but between whiles managed to do fairly well in the

Tripos, to finish a new and original translation of Quintilian,

another of Petronius Arbiter and also a literal rendering into

the English of the Memoirs of the Sieur de Brantome."

"For none of which you have hitherto found a publisher?" inquired

Mr. Grainger.

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"Not as yet," said I, "but I have great hopes of my Brantome, as

you are probably aware this is the first time he has ever been

translated into the English."

"Hum!" said Sir Richard, "ha!--and in the meantime what do you

intend to do?"

"On that head I have as yet come to no definite conclusion, sir,"

I answered.

"I have been wondering," began Mr. Grainger, somewhat diffidently,

"if you would care to accept a position in my office. To be sure

the remuneration would be small at first and quite insignificant

in comparison to the income you have been in the receipt of."

"But it would have been money earned," said I, "which is

infinitely preferable to that for which we never turn a hand--at

least, I think so."

"Then you accept?"

"No, sir," said I, "though I am grateful to you, and thank you

most sincerely for your offer, yet I have never felt the least

inclination to the practice of law; where there is no interest

one's work must necessarily suffer, and I have no desire that

your business should be injured by any carelessness of mine."

"What do you think of a private tutorship?"

"It would suit me above all things were it not for the fact that

the genus 'Boy' is the most aggravating of all animals, and that

I am conscious of a certain shortness of temper at times, which

might result in pain to my pupil, loss of dignity to myself, and

general unpleasantness to all concerned--otherwise a private

tutorship would suit most admirably."

Here Sir Richard took another pinch of snuff and sat frowning up

at the ceiling, while Mr. Grainger began tying up that document

which had so altered my prospects. As for me, I crossed to the

window and stood staring out at the evening. Everywhere were trees

tinted by the rosy glow of sunset, trees that stirred sleepily in

the gentle wind, and far away I could see that famous highway,

built and paved for the march of Roman Legions, winding away to

where it vanished over distant Shooter's Hill.




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