at's handsome of the School-master.
He couldn't make more of an apology if he tried. I'll forgive him if you
will. What say you?"

And strange to say, the Doctor, in spite of the indignation which still
left a red tinge on his cheek, laughed aloud and was reconciled.

As for the School-master, he wanted to be angry, but he did not feel
that he could afford his wrath, and for the first time in some months
the guests went their several ways at peace with each other and the
world.

III

There was a conspiracy in hand to embarrass the Idiot. The School-master
and the Bibliomaniac had combined forces to give him a taste of his own
medicine. The time had not yet arrived which showed the Idiot at a
disadvantage; and the two boarders, the one proud of his learning, and
the other not wholly unconscious of a bookish life, were distinctly
tired of the triumphant manner in which the Idiot always left the
breakfast-table to their invariable discomfiture.

It was the School-master's suggestion to put their tormentor into the
pit he had heretofore digged for them. The worthy instructor of youth
had of late come to see that while he was still a prime favorite with
his landlady, he had, nevertheless, suffered somewhat in her estimation
because of the apparent ease with which the Idiot had got the better of
him on all points. It was necessary, he thought, to rehabilitate
himself, and a deep-laid plot, to which the Bibliomaniac readily lent
ear, was the result of his reflections. They twain were to indulge in a
discussion of the great story of _Robert Elsmere_, which both were
confident the Idiot had not read, and concerning which they felt assured
he could not have an intelligent opinion if he had read it.

So it happened upon this bright Sunday morning that as the boarders sat
them down to partake of the usual "restful breakfast," as the Idiot
termed it, the Bibliomaniac observed:

"I have just finished reading _Robert Elsmere_."

"Have you, indeed?" returned the School-master, with apparent interest.
"I trust you profited by it?"

"On the contrary," observed the Bibliomaniac. "My views are much
unsettled by it."

"I prefer the breast of the chicken, Mrs. Smithers," observed the Idiot,
sending his plate back to the presiding genius of the table. "The neck
of a chicken is graceful, but not too full of sustenance."

"He fights shy," whispered the Bibliomaniac, gleefully.

"Never mind," returned the School-master, co