oor
at the end of the room.

Jeffreys saw another room, larger than the one he was in, lined with
shelves, and crowded on the floor with heaps of books in most admired
disorder.

"It was no use," said Mr Rimbolt half pathetically. "I cherished the
hope as long as I was able of reducing this chaos to order, and putting
away each one of these treasures (for they are no common volumes) in a
place of its own. Every day it grows worse. I've fought against it and
put it off, because I could find no one who would undertake it as much
for the love of the work as for the small salary to which a private
librarian would be entitled. Now you see the selfish reason I have for
mentioning the matter to you, Mr Jeffreys. I offer you nothing to jump
at; for it will need sheer hard work and a lot of drudgery to overtake
the arrears of work, and after that I doubt if the keeping up of the
library will leave you much leisure. You would incur no little
responsibility either, for if I handed the care of the library to you, I
should hold you responsible for every volume in it, and should expect
you to know something of the inside of the books as well as the outside.
You may think a salary of L100 a year hardly adequate to this amount of
work and responsibility; if so I must not press you further, for that is
the sum I have arranged to give, and cannot see my way to offering more.
It would include residence here, and board, of course."

Jeffreys felt almost dazzled by the prospect thus deprecatingly unfolded
by Mr Rimbolt. Had the offer been made in any less delicate way; had
it savoured of charity to the outcast, or reward to the benefactor, he
would have rejected it, however tempting. As it was, it seemed like the
opening of one of the gates of Providence before him. The work promised
was what of all others he coveted; the salary, with the casually-thrown
in addition of board and lodging, seemed like affluence; his employer
was a gentleman, and the opportunities of study and self-improvement
were such as fall to the lot of few. Above all, in hard work among
those quiet and friendly bookshelves he would find refuge from his bad
name, and perhaps be able to establish for himself what he had hitherto
striven for in vain--a character.

"I am most grateful, sir," said he, "if you really think I should suit
you."

"I think you would," said Mr Rimbolt, in a tone which gratified
Jeffreys far more than if he had launched out into idle