well in
them, and clever people often fail.'

Her voice sank on the last word, and she tried to read Barmby's face
without meeting his look. Of late, a change had come about in her
estimation of Samuel. Formerly she spoke of him with contemptuous
amusement, in the tone set by Nancy; since she had become a friend of
the family, his sisters' profound respect had influenced her way of
thinking, and in secret she was disposed rather to admire 'the
Prophet.' He had always struck her as a comely man, and, her education
notwithstanding, she never perceived in his remarks that downright
imbecility which excited Nancy's derision. On Jubilee night he was
anything but a tedious companion; apart from her critical friend,
Jessica had listened without impatience to his jests, his instructive
facts, his flowing rhetoric. Now-a-days, in her enfeebled state of
body and mind, she began to look forward with distinct pleasure to her
occasional meetings with Samuel, pleasure which perhaps was enhanced
by the air of condescension wherewith he tempered his courtesy. Morbid
miseries brought out the frailty of her character. Desiring to be highly
esteemed by Mr. Barmby, she found herself no less willing to join his
sisters in a chorus of humbly feminine admiration, when he discoursed
to them from an altitude. At moments, after gazing upon his eloquent
countenance, she was beset by strange impulses which brought blood to
her cheek, and made her dread the Miss. Barmbys' scrutiny.

'I look upon examinations,' Samuel was saying, 'as a professional
matter. I never went in for them myself, simply because I--I turned my
energies in another direction.'

'You _could_ have passed them,' remarked one of his sisters, 'easily
enough.'

'In Miss. Morgan's presence,'--he stroked his chin, and smiled with
delicious fatuity--'I prefer to say nothing on that point.'

'Oh but of course you could, Mr. Barmby,' sounded Jessica's voice, in
an unsteady falsetto, whilst her eyes were turned upon the floor. 'You
would have thought nothing of this matriculation, which seems to me so
dreadful.'

Profoundly flattered, Samuel addressed the girl in his suavest tones.

'I have a theory, Miss. Morgan, that young ladies ought not to undergo
these ordeals. The delicacy of their nervous system unfits them for such
a strain. I'm sure we shall all feel very glad when you are successfully
through the trial. After it, you ought to have a long rest.'

'Oh, you ought--indee