res
had been written in pencil. The pencil lay on the desk. He picked it
up, glanced at the door and at the rows of empty desks, and a neat
"_2_" in front of the _7_; then he strolled innocently forth
and came back late. His trick ought to have been found out--the odds
were against him--but it was not found out. Of course it was dishonest.
Yes, but I will not agree that Denry was uncommonly vicious. Every
schoolboy is dishonest, by the adult standard. If I knew an honest
schoolboy I would begin to count my silver spoons as he grew up. All is
fair between schoolboys and schoolmasters.

This dazzling feat seemed to influence not only Denry's career but also
his character. He gradually came to believe that he had won the
scholarship by genuine merit, and that he was a remarkable boy and
destined to great ends. His new companions, whose mothers employed
Denry's mother, also believed that he was a remarkable boy; but they did
not forget, in their gentlemanly way, to call him "washer-woman."
Happily Denry did not mind.

He had a thick skin, and fair hair and bright eyes and broad shoulders,
and the jolly gaiety of his disposition developed daily. He did not
shine at the school; he failed to fulfil the rosy promise of the
scholarship; but he was not stupider than the majority; and his opinion
of himself, having once risen, remained at "set fair." It was
inconceivable that he should work in clay with his hands.

II

When he was sixteen his mother, by operations [**words missing in
original] a yard and a half of Brussels point lace, put [**words missing
in original] Emery under an obligation. Mrs Emery [**words missing in
original] the sister of Mr Duncalf. Mr Duncalf was town Clerk of
Bursley, and a solicitor. It is well known that all bureaucracies are
honey-combed with intrigue. Denry Machin left school to be clerk to Mr
Duncalf, on the condition that within a year he should be able to write
shorthand at the rate of a hundred and fifty words a minute. In those
days mediocre and incorrect shorthand was not a drug on the market. He
complied (more or less, and decidedly less than more) with the
condition. And for several years he really thought that he had nothing
further to hope for. Then he met the Countess.

The Countess of Chell was born of poor but picturesque parents, and she
could put her finger on her great-grandfather's grandfather. Her mother
gained her livelihood and her daughter's by allowing herself to be se