way of doing. It was a
providential ordering, Uncle Bob remarked, enabling the writers of
papers to take refuge from criticism in the impressive statement that
it is impossible to treat of the matter adequately in so short a space.
Margaret Elizabeth laughed, and crossed out a paragraph at the bottom of
her first page, and then set out for the Public Library.

Seated in the Reference Room, with more books than she could read in a
year on the table before her, behold Miss Bentley presently inconsolable
for lack of a certain authority she chanced to remember in the college
library at home. The whole force of the Reference Room mourned with her,
for Margaret Elizabeth in the part of earnest student was no less
captivating than in her other roles.

"I know where there is a copy," said the youngest and wisest of the
force, "but it won't do you any good. Mr. Knight, the man the children
call the Miser, has one."

"I'll go and ask him to let me see it. I'd like to know a real live
miser." Margaret Elizabeth closed the book she had in hand and rose.

The force gasped at her temerity. They had heard he was a horrid old
man; but the youngest observed wisely that probably he wouldn't bite.

Miss Bentley, however, having recently developed a bump of discretion,
did first consult Dr. Prue in the matter, who responded, "Why certainly,
I see no objection to your asking to see the book. Mr. Knight is a
harmless, studious man. I have met him on two occasions when I was
called in to attend his housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, and he was courtesy
itself. I will go with you and introduce you, if you like."

Virginia, hanging around and overhearing, begged to be allowed to go
too. "I'd love to see the inside of his house," she urged.

She was assured she would find it stupid, but this was as nothing
compared with the glory of entering the abode of the Miser in company
with her ladyship, and the other pigeons looking enviously on outside.

Dr. Prue, of course, had no time to waste, so Margaret Elizabeth
hastened to find her pad and pencil, and across the street they went
forthwith. The Miser was discovered in his library, a spacious, shabby
room, yet not too shabby for dignity, full of valuable and even rare
things, such as old prints and engravings, and most of all of books,
which overflowed their shelves in a scholarly disorder not unfamiliar
to Margaret Elizabeth.

With businesslike brevity Dr. Vandegrift presented her cousin and her