of yourself,' his mother resumed, 'and you always
have done. But there's people have a better judgment of you. Haven't
you thought that somebody looks always very pleased when you read or
talk, and sits very quiet when you've nothing to say, and always says
good-night to you so prettily?'

'Mother, mother, don't speak like that! I've thought nothing of the
kind. Put that out of your head; never speak of it again.'

His voice was not untender, but very grave. The lines of his face
hardened. Mrs. Grail glanced at him timidly, and became mute.

A loud double knock told that the postman had delivered a letter at the
house. Whilst the two still sat in silence Mrs. Jarmey tapped at their
door and said:

'A letter for you, Mr. Grail.'

'From Mr. Egremont,' said Gilbert, as he resumed his seat and opened
the envelope. 'More about the library I expect.'

He read to himself.

'My dear Grail,--I have decided to take the school building on a lease
of seven years, after again carefully examining it and finding it still
to my mind. It will be free at the end of March. By that time I hope to
have sketched out something of a rudimentary catalogue, and before
summer the library should be open.

'I asked you to come and look over this place with me because I had a
project in my mind with reference to the library which concerns
yourself. I lay it before you in a letter, that you may think it over
quietly and reply at your leisure. I wish to offer you the position of
librarian: I am sure I could not find anyone better suited for the
post, and certainly there is no man whom I should like so well to see
occupying it. I propose that the salary be a hundred pounds a year,
with free tenancy of the dwelling-house at present so dolorously
occupied--I am sure it can be made a comfortable abode--and of course,
gas and fuel. I should make arrangements for the necessary cleaning,
&c., with some person of the neighbourhood; your own duties would be
solely those of librarian and reading-room superintendent.

'The library should be open, I think, from ten to ten, for I want to
lose no possibility of usefulness. If one loafer be tempted to come in
and read, the day's object is gained. These hours are, of course, too
long for you alone; I would provide you with an assistant, so that you
could assure for yourself, let us say, four hours free out of the
twelve. But details would be easily arranged between us. By-the-by,
Sunday must _not_ be a d