was
scattered all over the country."

"No doubt it was. I have a few--perhaps twenty--with the same plate. My
uncle gave me them. I--a--Miss Campion--I came this morning--"

Apparently he did not quite know why he came, or at any rate he did not
find it easy to say. Lettice spoke again in order to relieve his
embarrassment, which she did not understand.

"It is so strange that I should have one of his books in my hand again.
You can imagine what a grief it was to him when he had to let them go."

"I am so glad to have restored to you something that was your father's.
I want you to give me a great pleasure, Miss Campion. These books--there
are not more than forty outside--I want you to have them. They are
yours, you know, because they were his, and he ought never to have been
deprived of them."

"I could not take them, indeed, Mr. Walcott. You are most kind to think
of it, but I could not!"

"Why?"

"That is hardly a reasonable question," she said, with a quiet little
laugh. "How could I?"

"I see very well how you could, but why should you not? It will be a
good deed, and there is no good deed without a sacrifice."

"And you want to sacrifice these books, which are so valuable!"

"No, it is no sacrifice to me, as I could easily prove to you. Believe
that it pleases me, and sacrifice your own feelings by taking them."

"I don't see why you should ask me. It is too great a present to make,
and--oh, dear me, I am afraid I do not know how to say what I mean! But
if you will give me this one book, with my father's name in it, I will
take it from you, and thank you very much for it."

"I shall not be satisfied if I may not send the rest. Miss Campion, I
came to say----"

Again he stammered and broke down. Lettice, who thought that he had
already delivered himself of his mental burden, was a little startled
now, especially as he got up and stood by her chair at the window.

"What a lovely little garden!" he said. "Why, you are quite in the
country here. What delightful roses! I--I want to say something else,
Miss Campion!"

"Yes," said Lettice, faintly, and doing her best to feel indifferent.

"We have not known each other long, but it seems to me that we know each
other well--at any rate that I know you well. Before I met you I had
never made the acquaintance of a woman who at the same time commanded my
respect, called my mind into full play, and aroused my sympathy. These
last few months have been the hap