spects.

"No," said Railsford, gloomily; "not always," and he pitched Mr
Bickers's letter into the grate as he spoke.

"Perhaps," said monsieur, "you do not always write them. I advise you
to not answer that letter."

"Why?" said Railsford, "how do you know what that letter is?"

"I do not know; but I think that it does need no answer."

Railsford laughed. "You are setting up as a soothsayer, monsieur.
Suppose I tell you that letter does need an answer, quickly?"

"Then, I say, somebody else will answer it better than you will."

Railsford picked the crushed-up letter off the coals just in time to
save it from the flames.

"How should you answer it, monsieur?"

Monsieur slowly unfolded the paper and smoothed it out.

"Meester Beekaire!" said he, with a twist of his moustache, as he
recognised the writing. "You mean that I read it?"

"Certainly, if you like."

The Frenchman read the document through, and then pitched it back into
the fire.

"Well?" said Railsford.

"Well, my good friend, it seems you do not know Meester Beekaire as well
as others."

"Is that all?" said Railsford, a little nettled.

"The masters' meeting is to-night, is it not?"

"So he says."

"You shall go?"

"Of course."

"It will not be pleasant times for you, for you will need to make
speeches, my good friend."

"Look here," said Railsford, who was getting a little impatient of these
enigmatical utterances, "I fancied you could give me some advice; if you
can't, let us talk about something more pleasant."

"I do give you advice. I say to you, go to the meeting, and say you did
wrong, and will not do it again--"

"What!" thundered Mark, in a voice which made Arthur and the baronet in
the room overhead jump out of their chairs.

"My kind Railsford, it is only my advice. You have been in the wrong.
I say to you, as a brave man, do not make yourself more wrong. Meester
Beekaire would help you very much to make yourself more wrong. Do not
let him help you, I say."

Unpalatable as it was, there was some force in his visitor's advice,
which Railsford was bound to admit. Poor monsieur was not a shining
example of successful dealing with his fellow-masters. Still, out of
the mouth of the simple one may sometimes hear a home truth.

The masters' session was a periodical conference of the Grandcourt
masters, half social, half business, for the purpose of talking over
matters of common school interest, discussing point