and lettering; priceless old volumes, rare
black-letter editions, poets, classics, all the standard novels.... Toni
had never seen so many books in her life; and it must be confessed that
she regarded them with something akin to awe.

Who in the world could wish to read these hundreds of volumes? For all
their beautiful bindings she had a conviction that the contents would be
appallingly dull; and her eyes fled gladly to the more congenial scene
outside the windows where the flowers danced gaily in the sunshine and a
little skiff floated by on the shimmering river, like some magic boat
gliding to a haven in fairyland.

Presently Owen approached the table, bearing an armful of thin books,
bound for the most part in soft fawn suede.

"Look, Miss Gibbs, these are the verses I want you to copy." He pointed
out the poems, and gave her one or two instructions, while Toni,
conscious that she had been dreaming away her time, hastily uncovered
her typewriter and took up a sheet of paper.

"If you'll do these, I'll go and have a chat with old Mrs. Blades," said
Owen presently. "Then we'll have tea, and if there's time I'll show you
the gardens. They are really worth seeing."

She thanked him shyly and he went out. In the doorway he paused, looking
back at her as she sat among the books; and if she had looked up she
could not have failed to observe something odd in the expression with
which he was regarding her.

But she did not look up; and after a few seconds' scrutiny he went out
quietly and closed the door.

It did not take Toni very long to finish her task. Almost as she took
the last sheet of paper out of the typewriter the door opened to admit
Owen and a staid-looking maid with a tea-tray.

"Well, Miss Gibbs, finished?" Owen came forward with a smile. "That's
good! Now you shall have some tea to refresh you after your toil. Let me
see, Kate, where shall we have it?"

The maid suggested that the table in the far window would be suitable;
and as the afternoon sunshine still streamed in, making a pleasant
warmth, Owen agreed heartily.

Evidently Mrs. Blades had not been taken unprepared; for there were
dainty sandwiches, hot cakes, and a big and substantial-looking
seed-loaf, which was, so Owen informed his guest, his housekeeper's
special pride.

"Now"--Kate had withdrawn after placing the massive silver tea-pot on
the tray--"will you pour out for me, Miss Gibbs? And I'll hand the
cakes."

Blushing gloriously