e of a grand
unmeasured life to a shallow pleasure. He was no longer a young man
now; he had no time to waste. Poor Margret! he wondered if it hurt her?

He signed the deed, and left it in the slow, quiet way natural to him,
and after a while stooped to pat the dog softly, who was trying to
lick his hand,--with the hard fingers shaking a little, and a smothered
fierceness in the half-closed eye, like a man who is tortured and alone.

There is a miserable drama acted in other homes than the Tuileries,
when men have found a woman's heart in their way to success, and
trampled it down under an iron heel. Men like Napoleon must live out
the law of their natures, I suppose,--on a throne, or in a mill.

So many trifles that day roused the undercurrent of old thoughts and
old hopes that taunted him,--trifles, too, that he would not have
heeded at another time. Pike came in on business, a bunch of bills in
his hand. A wily, keen eye he had, looking over them,--a lean face,
emphasized only by cunning. No wonder Dr. Knowles cursed him for a
"slippery customer," and was cheated by him the next hour. While he
and Holmes were counting out the bills, a little white-headed girl
crept shyly in at the door, and came up to the table,--oddly dressed,
in a frock fastened with great horn buttons, and with an old-fashioned
anxious pair of eyes, the color of blue Delft. Holmes smoothed her
hair, as she stood beside them; for he never could help caressing
children or dogs. Pike looked up sharply,--then half smiled, as he
went on counting.

"Ninety, ninety-five, AND one hundred, all right,"--tying a bit of tape
about the papers. "My Sophy, Mr. Holmes. Good girl, Sophy is. Bring
her up to the mill sometimes," he said, apologetically, "on 'count of
not leaving her alone. She gets lonesome at th' house."

Holmes glanced at Pike's felt hat lying on the table: there was a rusty
strip of crape on it.

"Yes," said Pike, in a lower tone, "I'm father and mother, both, to
Sophy now."

"I had not heard," said Holmes, kindly. "How about the boys, now?"

"Pete and John 's both gone West," the man said, his eyes kindling
eagerly. "'S fine boys as ever turned out of Indiana. Good eddications
I give 'em both. I've felt the want of that all my life.. Good
eddications. Says I, 'Now, boys, you've got your fortunes, nothing to
hinder your bein' President. Let's see what stuff 's in ye,' says I.
So they're doin' well. Wrote fur me to co