Charley vanished. "Take me to his library," said Augusta. "Just let me walk round it once, will you?" "Oh yes, if you like," I replied. I took her round. She stepped softly in veneration. She took up a volume; she seated herself on a chair; she opened it; she was lost. "Augusta," I said. There was not the most remote movement on her part. "Augusta!" I said again. Her lips quivered. She was repeating something softly under her breath. "Come," I cried, "it is time for you to go home to your dinner, and it is time for us to eat ours. Get up! Awake!" No stir of any sort. Violent measures were necessary. I snatched the hook from her hand, and in so doing upset the stool on which she was sitting. To have her book taken away and her seat removed from under her was sufficient to wake even Augusta Moore. She rubbed her eyes and said, "Where was I?" "Where you have no right to be," I said. "You really must go." "But you will keep him up to the mark; you will take my advice, won't you?" "I tell you what," I said cheerfully; "if I can possibly manage it, I will introduce you to him, and you shall talk to him. If you feel that he is so near you--so like you in all respects--you will have much more influence over him than I should, and you will be able to keep him up to the mark yourself." The next minute I had repented of my hastily formed decision, for Augusta's long, thin arms were round my neck, and she was hugging me and kissing me on my cheeks, and then hugging me again with frantic energy. "Oh, you dear! You love! You beautiful creature! Oh! oh! oh! To think of it! To think of it!" "Dinner is served," said Charley, just poking his head round the door and then vanishing. At last I got rid of Augusta. When I arrived in the dining-room Charley asked me if I had had a mad girl in the house who had broken loose from an asylum. I replied with dignity that she was a very clever girl, and then we proceeded to our meal. The meal itself was quite plain--the usual sort--a piece of boiled beef, carrots floating in gravy round it, and a few boiled potatoes. These were to be followed by one of Hannah's apple-dumplings. Now, apple-dumplings are supposed to be very good things, but I cannot say that Hannah's recipe was worth preserving. The pastry was always very hard, and the apples were never done enough; in short, we were all tired of them. "I can't imagine why the thing that smells so jolly good doesn't come upstairs," said Charley. "It's too bad--it's worse than bad." "Oh no," I answered; "don't say that, Charley. Hannah is keeping it for supper. She is going to have a surprise supper; I know it for I saw the cake." "The cake!" cried Charley. "A cake made by Hannah?" "Yes; and I can tell you it did smell pretty good. Oh, didn't it just!" I smacked my lips in anticipation. "I suppose we'll have to make this do," said Alex gloomily, helping himself to another slice of tough beef.