The Superintendent was an elderly man, inclining to stoutness and of unyielding placidity.

It was suspected that the Founder had taken pains to choose a man who would observe his injunction of not meddling with thorny questions the more strictly from his own inability to understand them.
"We are very empty just now," he said, with a sigh.

Poor man! perhaps it was dull.

"Only two, besides yourself." "The fewer the better," said Stafford, with a smile, half in earnest, half humoring the genius of the place.
The Superintendent looked as if he might have said something on the other side but refrained, and, without more ado, made Stafford at home in the bare little room that was to serve him for sleeping and living.
Stafford was full of weariness, and sank down on the bed with a sense of momentary respite.

He would not begin to think till to-morrow.
Here we must leave him to wage his uncertain battle.