"Yes, dear, that's it, of course, and perfectly natural and legitimate
in its place such caution is. But the trouble is, she puts it first
and foremost. We want certainly to keep the books as neat as is
consistent with constant use, and it's always safe to ask to see a
lad's hands; but there are different ways of going about the business.
The main thing about a library is, of course, its usefulness to the
people; perhaps, most of all to the younger among them. You agree with
me, dear, that that consideration comes before everything?"

"Yes, indeed, Uncle John," she said primly.

He smiled suddenly and very charmingly.

"Elsie dear, if I hadn't known that your step-mother was a
schoolmistress, I should have guessed it," he declared. "Externally,
her influence upon you has almost blotted out your mother's. I'm
thankful you didn't stay with her long enough for it to go deeper,
excellent woman as I know her to be. As it is, your speech and manner
conceal rather than reveal your likeness to your mother, but it
struggles through for all that."

He paused and his face grew grave.

"I hope--I trust, dear, you didn't feel--_repressed_?" he asked
anxiously. "You are so quiet and reserved and docile for a young
girl--especially for your mother's daughter. Your stepmother was--kind
to you, surely?"

"Oh, yes, sir," she faltered, distressed at the dilemma. Vaguely aware
that she had an opening for her confession, she made no attempt to use
it. "I know I am--everything is"--she faltered.

"You're just right, Elsie dear," he said kindly. "Just be yourself.
And if you have learned not to be spontaneous, try to forget it. In
any event, never repress any desire for gayety or romping or what-not
in this house. You don't at all need to be quiet oh your Aunt Milly's
account. She isn't strong and she is excitable, and yet she isn't
somehow what is called nervous at all. She doesn't mind noise or even
tumult; indeed, she likes to feel that things are going on in the house
even if she cannot share them."

Even now, Elsie understood that this was quite true in regard to Mrs.
Middleton. There was, in spite of what the girl called her falsity,
something generous about her. Elsie wasn't herself any the more drawn
to her--or any the less repelled--but now she first had a slight
inkling of any foundation for Mr. Middleton's strange infatuation.
There was, somehow, in the midst of all that sentimentality, some
genuine feel