"Of the Academy?" said Darrel, as he held to the hand of Kent.
"Of the Academy," said Trove.
"An', I make no doubt, o' good hope," the tinker added. "Let me stop one o' the clocks—so I may not forget the hour o' meeting a new friend."
Darrel crossed the room and stopped a pendulum.
"He would like to join this night-school of ours," Trove answered.
"Would he?" said the tinker. "Well, it is one o' hard lessons. When ye come t' multiply love by experience, an' subtract vanity an' add peace, an' square the remainder, an' then divide by the number o' days in thy life—it is a pretty problem, an' the result may be much or little, an' ye reach it—"
He paused a moment, thoughtfully puffing the smoke.
"Not in this term o' school," he added impressively.
All were silent a little time.
"Where have you been?" Trove inquired presently.