"But no, it ees quite right, you zee? Ze collecziones mus' be for ze college—all—no private ones; it will not do."

"Yes, I see; all must work for the general good when making a collection."

"Yes, yes, it ees so."

They were now passing into the museum building, whose wide and lofty corridors sent a thrill of awe through the impressionable girl. Feeling very small and young, she followed the professor over the tiled floors, then through two or three large apartments filled with strange looking beasts and birds of a startling naturalness, past long glass cases, where she caught hasty glimpses of everything possible in shell, bone, stone, or mineral, then across a narrow corridor, where the professor stopped and tapped at a door.

"Enter!" was called loudly from within, and they obeyed.

It was a bright, sunny room they stepped into, not large, in comparison with those they had passed through, though here, too, were smaller glass cases, as well as tables heaped with jars and specimens, and two knee- hole desks of fair size.

From one of these a gentleman advanced; not a large man, but having a fine head and face. His black hair was thrown carelessly back from a broad white forehead, while his mouth and chin were concealed under a full dark beard. His eyes, of the same dusky hue, peered keenly through glasses.

"Professor, here I have mine leetle vriend, Mees Sara Olmstead; and zis,
Mees Sara, ees ze good man with whom you do vork, Professor Macon."

The professor and his new assistant shook hands, while the latter felt she herself was being classified and labelled by those penetrating orbs.

"I'm happy to meet Miss Olmstead; pray be seated. Don't hurry away,
Professor Grandet; can't you sit down a while, also?"