quiet,' declared its occupant, 'and that's all I care
for. Two other lodgers in the house; but they go to business every
morning at half-past eight, and are in bed by ten at night. Besides,
it's only temporary. I have great things in view--portentous changes!
I'll tell you all about it presently.'

He insisted, first of all, on hearing a full account of Barfoot's
history since they both met. They had corresponded about twice a year,
but Everard was not fond of letter-writing, and on each occasion gave
only the briefest account of himself. In listening, Micklethwaite
assumed extraordinary positions, the result, presumably, of a need of
physical exercise after hours spent over his work. Now he stretched
himself at full length on the edge of his chair, his arms extended
above him; now he drew up his legs, fixed his feet on the chair, and
locked his hands round his knees; thus perched, he swayed his body
backwards and forwards, till it seemed likely that he would pitch head
foremost on to the floor. Barfoot knew these eccentricities of old, and
paid no attention to them.

'And what is the appointment you have got?' he asked at length,
dismissing his own affairs with impatience.

It was that of mathematical lecturer at a London college.

'I shall have a hundred and fifty a year, and be able to take private
pupils. On two hundred, at least, I can count, and there are
possibilities I won't venture to speak of, because it doesn't do to be
too hopeful. Two hundred a year is a great advance for me.'

'Quite enough, I suppose,' said Everard kindly.

'Not--not enough. I must make a little more somehow.'

'Hollo! Why this spirit of avarice all at once?'

The mathematician gave a shrill, cackling laugh, and rolled upon his
chair.

'I must have more than two hundred. I should be satisfied with _three_
hundred, but I'll take as much more as I can get.'

'My revered tutor, this is shameless. I came to pay my respects to a
philosopher, and I find a sordid worldling. Look at me! I am a man of
the largest needs, spiritual and physical, yet I make my pittance of
four hundred and fifty suffice, and never grumble. Perhaps you aim at
an income equal to my own?'

'I do! What's four hundred and fifty? If you were a man of enterprise
you would double or treble it. I put a high value on money. I wish to
be _rich_!'

'You are either mad or are going to get married.'

Micklethwaite cackled louder than ever.

'I am planning a new a