Humphrey felt as if he were a squirming thing under the microscope.... That was the way of Ferrol--everything depended on the first impression that he received; all his being was tautened to receive that first impression. It was a narrow system of judging character, but he made few mistakes.... They were quickly corrected. He never forgave those who deceived him by wearing a mask over their true selves.
There is not the slightest doubt that Humphrey felt a little nervous--who would not, with Ferrol's eyes boring through one?--but he knew that great issues were at stake. He carried his head high, and his eyes met Ferrol's without a quiver. Thus he stood by the table for five seconds, though it seemed as many minutes to him, until Ferrol told him to sit down.
"So you want to come on _The Day_," was the way Ferrol began. They were eye to eye all the while.
"Yes, sir," said Humphrey, briskly. Somehow or other, with the sound of Ferrol's voice all his nervousness departed. It was the silence that had made him feel awkward.
"Let's see.... Ah! yes; you've been on an Easterham paper, haven't you?"
Humphrey smiled faintly. "That's all," he said.
Here was an amazing question for which he was totally unprepared. It had never occurred to him that he would be asked to make his choice. His eyes wandered to the buttons.... What _did_ he want to do? He made an answer that sounded futile and foolish to him.
"I want to get on," he stammered, hesitatingly, with a picture of his aunt rising mentally before him.
Ferrol's eyes twinkled. It was a magic answer if Humphrey had but known. Most of the others he saw wanted to do descriptive writing, they had literary kinks in them, or wanted to have roving commissions abroad.... None of them wanted to start at the bottom.
"Well, this is the place for young men who want to get on, you know," said Ferrol. "It's hard work...." He turned away and consulted some papers. "I think I'll give you a chance," he said.
The clock struck twelve, and it sounded to Humphrey that a chime of joy-bells had flooded the room with triumphant music.
"You can start at three pounds a week." Ferrol pressed a button. Trinder appeared. "Ask Mr Rivers if he can come," said Ferrol.