ughts, "it's not as if we had only ourselves to consider. There's
Miss Harden."

"Ah, yes, Pilkington did make some mention of a young lady."

"She was good enough to say she'd rather we bought the library than
anybody. I think we're bound to justify her confidence."

"Certainly, most certainly, we are," said Isaac with solemnity. He was
agreeably flattered by this tribute to the greatness of his house.

"I thought I did right in promising that we would do our very best for
her."

"Of course you were. But that's all settled. Mr. Pilkington knows that
I'm prepared to meet his wishes."

"His wishes?"

"He gave me to understand that he was anxious to have a sum to hand
over to the young lady. In fact, he wrote me a most touching appeal."

"What d----d impertinence! He had no business to appeal!"

"Well, per'aps it wasn't strictly business-like. But I think, under
the circumstances, 'e was morally--_morally_--justified. And I think
he will consider I've responded very handsomely."

"You've made him an offer, then?"

"I made it three days ago, provisionally, and he's accepted it," said
Isaac, with some heat. "Why, he's got the cheque."

"For how much?"

"For twelve hundred."

"My dear father, you know, really, that won't do."

"Do you think it was foolish to pay the two hundred extra?"

Isaac gazed at him over his fine gold-rimmed spectacles; and as he
gazed he kept drawing his beard slowly through one lean and meditative
hand. It was thus that he grasped his son's argument and drew it to a
point.

"Foolish? It was--Don't you see? We--we simply can't do it."

"Why, you said yourself we could go as far as four thousand five, or
four thousand at the very least."

Keith looked steadily at his father, who was too deeply and solemnly
absorbed to perceive the meaning of the look. "That was not quite what
I said. I said--if we were _not_ prepared to go so far, it was our
duty to withdraw. I thought I had made that clear to you."

"You 'aven't made it clear to me why you're objecting to that two
hundred now."

Isaac was beginning to feel that stupidity was now his refuge.

"I'm not objecting to your reckless extravagance, as you seem to
think. I'm trying to suggest that twelve hundred is a ridiculously
small offer for a collection which can't be worth less than four
thousand."

"It may be worth that to a collector. It isn't worth it to me."

"It's worth it to any dealer who knows his business."

"Pre