It was as though the thoughts and schemes he had left warm and safe in shelter there started to life again after a day's torpor, and thronged to meet him.

His books smiled at him with friendly faces, the open page called to him to resume the work of the morning--he was, in every sense, at home.

Tonight, however, the familiar spell seemed to have lost its force.

After a hasty supper he took up some proofs, pen in hand.

But the first page was hardly turned before they had dropped on to his knee.