t is really inheritance. Now the
next; what is it?" Huntington became impatient in his eagerness.

"That is as late as my father's collection went."

"But surely you have a Kelmscott 'Chaucer'?"

"Yes; I bought one when I was in England."

"Put it up here just after the 'Racine.' There you are: except for
Gutenberg's 'Mazzarine Bible,' which you may be excused for not
possessing because of its rarity, you have a complete set representing
the best printing which has been done in each epoch."

"You see how little I realized it," Hamlen apologized.

"You expressed your realization in the most tangible way possible, my
dear fellow! You produced examples which are worthy to stand on the same
shelf with those masterpieces. We won't put any living printer's work
there yet, until Time has placed its value upon it, but I'll wager that
when the next selection is made the books of Philip Hamlen will receive
consideration."

"I wish I might believe that," Hamlen said with deep feeling; "it would
mean everything to me."

"You must believe it. When you come to Boston, and find out how other
collectors regard your work, you'll think my praise is tame. Until then,
believe what I tell you, and take out of it the gratification which
belongs to you.--I want you to go back to Boston with me, Hamlen, and
pay me a visit. Will you do it?"

The change in subject was so abrupt that it took his host entirely
unawares.

"Do you mean that, Huntington?" he asked.

"Of course I mean it. In fact, I insist upon it. I want to take you home
to exhibit to my jealous friends as my own discovery.--Then it's all
agreed."

"I couldn't leave here," Hamlen said soberly.

"I'll wait for you," Huntington replied. "I'm really in no hurry at
all."

Hamlen laughed, and it was the first time Huntington had seen his
reserve break down. He could not help contrasting it with the burst of
emotion which had preceded his departure only the day before.

"You are a hard man to resist," Hamlen said lightly; "but that is
something for the future. Let me have it to look forward to."

"Well, I haven't left Bermuda yet, and I don't want to go without
you.--Now, Miss Merry, I must get you safely back to the hotel. Do you
feel equal to another walk?"

"I'm eager for it," she replied.

At the door Hamlen managed to have a word alone with Huntington.

"You knew her mother when she was a girl, you said?"

"Yes;--slightly," was the guarded reply.

"She was