she had acquired from
him, and from the books he lent her.

"Dear Mr. Eissler," ran the note. "Will you come to Room 18 when you are
at leisure? I have rather an interesting specimen of Child Life which I
am keeping for your inspection."

During the short period which had elapsed between the stranger's arrival
and the departure of First Readers, the new-comer had undergone an
entire change of manner. Not that he had softened toward his little
future companions. Rather he grew in hatred and vindictiveness as the
busy morning progressed. It was his attitude toward Miss Bailey which
changed. In the Principal's office and on the way through the halls he
had seemed to waver on the brink of friendliness. But he had sat beside
her desk and had seen her moving up and down through the narrow streets
of her kingdom, encouraging here, laughing there, explaining with
patient care and detail, laying a friendly hand on bent little shoulders
and setting hair ribbons more jauntily erect--behaving, in fact, with a
freedom and affection most evidently reflected and magnified by her
subjects. And as he watched her his little mouth lost all its softness,
and the hard, inscrutable look disfigured him again.

When Mr. Eissler, in response to the summons, opened the door, the
newcomer's back was toward it. He wheeled at the sound, and clear and
quick he lashed out his single phrase.

Miss Bailey chanced to be looking at her old friend, and at the child's
voice saw him cringe and shrink as if from a blow.

"There it is again," she cried. "That's all we can get him to say. Tell
me, Mr. Eissler, _what_ does it mean?"

She got no answer.

The man, in all the dignity of his cutaway and his white linen, was
glaring at the child, and the child, in his ridiculous rags, pitiful,
starved, and dirty, was looking the man over from top to toe with
contemptuous, careless eyes. They stood so for some space, and it was
the man who turned away.

"I will not pretend not to understand," said he to Teacher; "but I must
decline to translate those words. They bring back--they bring back! Ah,
God! what they bring back!"

"Ah, yes, I know!" said Miss Bailey, in vague but ready sympathy. "I'm
very, very sorry."

While this conversation was in progress its object was wandering about
Room 18, surveying its pictures, the canary, the gold-fish bowl, and the
flowery window-boxes with a blase air. Occasionally he glanced at Miss
Bailey with unfriendly disillu