per observer than he was to see that, under all
that young girl's simplicity and sweetness, there lurked something of
dangerous ambition. She loved to recall the court-life her childhood had
known, though her youth had resigned it with apparent cheerfulness. Like
many who are poor and fallen, Sibyll built herself a sad consolation out
of her pride; she never forgot that she was well-born. But Marmaduke, in
what was ambition, saw but interest in himself, and his heart beat more
quickly as he bent his eyes upon that downcast, thoughtful, earnest
countenance.

After an hour thus passed, Sibyll left the guest, and remounted to her
father's chamber. She found Adam pacing the narrow floor, and muttering
to himself. He turned abruptly as she entered, and said, "Come hither,
child; I took four marks from that young man, for I wanted books and
instruments, and there are two left; see, take them back to him."

"My father, he will not receive them. Fear not, thou shalt repay him
some day."

"Take them, I say, and if the young man says thee nay, why, buy thyself
gauds and gear, or let us eat, and drink, and laugh. What else is life
made for? Ha, ha! Laugh, child, laugh!"

There was something strangely pathetic in this outburst, this terrible
mirth, born of profound dejection. Alas for this guileless, simple
creature, who had clutched at gold with a huckster's eagerness! who,
forgetting the wants of his own child, had employed it upon the service
of an Abstract Thought, and whom the scorn of his kind now pierced
through all the folds of his close-webbed philosophy and self forgetful
genius. Awful is the duel between MAN and THE AGE in which he lives! For
the gain of posterity, Adam Warner had martyrized existence,--and the
children pelted him as he passed the streets! Sibyll burst into tears.

"No, my father, no," she sobbed, pushing back the money into his hands.
"Let us both starve rather than you should despond. God and man will
bring you justice yet."

"Ah," said the baffled enthusiast, "my whole mind is one sore now! I
feel as if I could love man no more. Go, and leave me. Go, I say!" and
the poor student, usually so mild and gall-less, stamped his foot in
impotent rage. Sibyll, weeping as if her heart would break, left him.

Then Adam Warner again paced to and fro restlessly, and again muttered
to himself for several minutes. At last he approached his Model,--the
model of a mighty and stupendous invention, the fruit of