elight upon his face
which was pleasant to see. He glanced from time to time at the other
persons in the room and looked very often at Mrs. Goddard, but on the
whole he was profoundly interested in the contents of the library. Mrs.
Goddard was installed in a huge leathern easy-chair by the fire, and the
squire was handing her one after another a number of new volumes which
lay upon a small table, and which she appeared to examine with interest.
Nellie knew where to look for her favourite books of engravings and had
curled herself up in a corner absorbed in "Hyde's Royal Residences." The
vicar went to look for something he wanted to consult.

"What do you think of our new friend?" asked Mrs. Goddard of the squire.
She spoke in a low tone and did not look up from the new book he had just
handed her.

"He appears to have a very peculiar temper," said Mr. Juxon. "But he
looks clever."

"What do you think he was talking about as we came through the park?"
asked Mrs. Goddard.

"What?"

"He was saying that he saw me once before he went to college, and--fancy
how deliciously boyish! he said he had written ever so many Greek odes to
my memory since!" Mrs. Goddard laughed a little and blushed faintly.

"Let us hope, for the sake of his success, that you may continue to
inspire him," said the squire gravely. "I have no doubt the odes were
very good."

"So he said. Fancy!"

CHAPTER VII.

Mrs. Goddard did not mean to walk home with John; but on the other hand
she did not mean to walk with the squire. She revolved the matter in her
mind as she sat in the library talking in an undertone with Mr. Juxon.
She liked the great room, the air of luxury, the squire's tea and the
squire's conversation. It is worth noticing that his flow of talk was
more abundant to-day than it had been for some time; whether it was
John's presence which stimulated Mr. Juxon's imagination, or whether
Mrs. Goddard had suddenly grown more interesting since John Short's
appearance it is hard to say; it is certain that Mr. Juxon talked better
than usual.

The afternoon, however, was far spent and the party had only come to make
a short visit. Mrs. Goddard rose from her seat.

"Nellie, child, we must be going home," she said, calling to the little
girl who was still absorbed in the book of engravings which she had taken
to the window to catch the last of the waning light.

John started and came forward with alacrity. The vicar looked up; Nell