't mind the heat," he said shortly when the squire
suggested to him that he might be too warm. John was in a fit of
contrariety. Mrs. Goddard glanced at him, as he spoke, and he thought he
detected a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, which did not tend to smooth
his temper.

"You will have some tea, Mrs. Goddard?" said Mr. Juxon, leading the way
into the library, which he regarded as the most habitable room in the
house. Mrs. Goddard walked by his side and the vicar followed, while John
and Nellie brought up the rear.

"Is not it a beautiful place?" said Nellie, who was anxious that the
new-comer should appreciate the magnificence of the Hall.

"Can't see very well," said John, "it is so dark."

"Oh, but it is beautiful," insisted Miss Nellie. "And they have lots of
lamps here in the evening. Perhaps Mr. Juxon will have them lighted
before we go. He is always so kind."

"Is he?" asked John with a show of interest.

"Yes--he brings mamma a rose every day," said Nellie.

"Not really?" said John, beginning to feel that he was justified in
hating the squire with all his might.

"Yes--and books, too. Lots of them--but then, he has so many. See, this
is the library. Is not it splendid!"

John looked about him and was surprised. The last rays of the setting sun
fell across the open lawn and through the deep windows of the great room,
illuminating the tall carved bookcases, the heavily gilt bindings, the
rich, dark Russia leather and morocco of the folios. The footsteps of the
party fell noiselessly upon the thick carpet and almost insensibly the
voices of the visitors dropped to a lower key. A fine large wood fire was
burning on the hearth, carefully covered with a metal netting lest any
spark should fly out and cause damage to the treasures accumulated in the
neighbouring shelves.

"Pray make yourself at home, Mr. Short," said the squire, coming up to
John. "You may find something of interest here. There are some old
editions of the classics that are thought rare--some specimens of
Venetian printing, too, that you may like to look at. Mr. Ambrose can
tell you more about them than I."

John's feeling of antagonism, and even his resentment against Mr. Juxon,
roused by Nellie's innocent remark about the roses, were not proof
against the real scholastic passion aroused by the sight of rare and
valuable books. In a few minutes he had divested himself of his greatcoat
and was examining the books with an expression of d