in this new and more spontaneous world, so full of undreamed-of beauties, so exquisitely stimulating to his new powers of appreciation, he had found something which he did not understand.  Truth for the first time had seemed unpleasant, not only in its effects but in itself.  The problem was beyond him.  Nevertheless, he pulled his bed up to the window, from which he could catch a glimpse of the varied lights of the city, and fell asleep.

In the morning he decided to seek for a situation.  A very reasonable instinct led him to avoid all such houses as Messrs. Waddington & Forbes.  He made his way instead to the offices of a firm who were quite at the top of their profession.  A junior partner accorded him a moment’s interview.  He was civil but to the point.

“There is no opening whatever in this firm,” he declared, “for any one who has been in the employment of Messrs. Waddington & Forbes.  Good morning!”

On the doorstep, Burton ran into the arms of Mr. Lynn, who recognized him at once.

“Say, young man,” he exclaimed, holding out his hand, “I am much obliged for that recommendation of yours to these people!  I have taken a house in Connaught Place—­a real nice house it is, too.  Come and see us—­number 17.  The wife and daughters land to-morrow.”

“Thank you very much,” Burton answered.  “I am glad you are fixed up comfortably.”

Mr. Lynn laid his hand upon the young man’s shoulder.  He looked at him curiously.  He was an observant person and much interested in his fellow-creatures.

“Kind of change in you, isn’t there?” he asked, in a puzzled manner.  “I scarcely recognized you at first.”

Burton made no reply.  The conventional falsehood which rose to his lips, died away before it was uttered.

“Look here,” Mr. Lynn continued, “you take a word of advice from me.  You chuck those people, Waddington & Forbes.  They’re wrong ’uns—­won’t do you a bit of good.  Get another job.  So long, and don’t forget to look us up.”

Mr. Lynn passed on his way into the office.  He ran into the junior partner, who greeted him warmly.

“Say, do you know that young man who’s just gone out?” the former inquired.

The junior partner shook his head.

“Never seen him before,” he replied.  “He came here looking for a job.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Lynn asked with interest.  “Well, I hope you gave it to him?”

Young Mr. Miller shook his head.

“He came from the wrong school for us,” he declared.  “Regular thieves, the people he was with.  By the bye, didn’t they nearly let you that death-trap of old Lady Idlemay’s?”

“Yes, and he happens to be just the young man,” Mr. Lynn asserted, removing the cigar from his mouth, “who prevented my taking it, or at any rate having to part with a handsome deposit.  I was sent down there with him and at first he cracked it up like a real hustler.  He got me so fixed that I had practically made up my mind and was ready to sign any reasonable agreement.  Then he suddenly seemed to turn round.  He looked me straight in the face and told me about the typhoid and all of it, explained that it wasn’t the business of the firm to let houses likely to interest me, and wound up by giving me your name and address and recommending me to come to you.”