"

"He won't say anything. He never does. The library's mine--mine to do
as I like with."

"You've broken the spell. Isn't there some weird legend about women
never inheriting it?"

"Well, they never have. I shall be the first."

"I say, if I were you, I should feel a little creepy."

"I do--sometimes. That's one reason why I want to get this thing made
in my lifetime, before I go away."

"Good gracious. You're not going away to die."

"I don't know what I'm going away to do. Anyhow, the catalogue will be
done. All ready for Horace when he steps into my shoes."

"Unless--happy thought--you marry him. That, I suppose, is _another_
pair of shoes?"

There was a pause, during which Miss Palliser gazed thoughtfully at
her friend.

"What have you been doing to yourself? You look most awfully tired."

"I've been sitting up rather late the last few nights, cataloguing."

"What on earth did you do that for?"

"Because I want to finish by the twenty-seventh."

There was a pause while Miss Palliser ate tea-cake.

"Is Horace coming down before you go?"

"No. He's too busy. Besides, he never comes when father isn't here."

"Oh dear no, he doesn't think it proper. It's odd," said Miss
Palliser, looking down at her tea-cake with an air of profound
philosophic reflection. "You can't ask your cousin to stay with you,
because it's improper; but it isn't improper to sit up making
catalogues with young Mr. Thing-um-a-jig till all hours of the night."

"Why should it be improper?"

"For Goodness' sake don't ask me. How should _I_ know? Don't you find
yourself wishing sometimes that Mr. Thing-um-a-jig was Mr. Jewdwine?"

"More tea, Kitty?"

"Rather! I'm going into the library to choose a book when I've
finished my tea. I shall take the opportunity of observing for myself
whether Mr.--Mr.--"

"Mr. Savage Keith Rickman."

"Good Lord deliver us! Whether Mr. Savage Keith Rickman is a proper
person for you to know. That reminds me. Dearest, do you know what
they talk about in Harmouth? They talk about _you_. Conversation
jiggers round you like a silly moth round a candle. Would you like to
know what Harmouth thinks of you?"

"No. I haven't the smallest curiosity."

"I shall tell you all the same, because it's good for you to see
yourself as others see you. They say, dear, that you do put on such a
thundering lot of side. They say that attitude is absurd in one so
young. They say you ought to marry, that if you don