A table covered with manuscripts, both in Latin and Anglo-Saxon, occupied the centre of the room, and there Elfric was seated, looking somewhat aimlessly at a Latin vocabulary, while Edwy was standing listlessly at the window. The “library,” if it deserved the name, was very unlike a modern library; books were few, and yet very expensive, so that perhaps there was no fuller collection in any layman’s house in the kingdom. There were Alfred’s translations into Anglo-Saxon, the “_Chronicle of Orosius_,” or the history of the World; the “_History of the Venerable Bede_,” both in his original Latin and in English; Boethius on the “_Consolations of Philosophy_;” narratives from ancient mythology; extracts from the works of St. Augustine and St. Gregory; and the Apologues or Fables from Æsop.viii “Oh, put those stupid books aside,” exclaimed the prince; “this is your first day in town, and I mean to take a holiday; that surly old Dunstan should have left word to that effect last night.” “Will he not be here soon?” “Yes, he is coming this morning, the old bear, to superintend my progress, and I wish him joy thereof.” “What has he given you to do?” inquired Elfric. “Why, a wretched exercise to write out. There, you see it before you; isn’t it a nuisance?” “It is not very hard, is it?” “Don’t you think it hard? See whether you can do it!” Elfric smiled, and wrote out the simple Latin with ease, for he had been well instructed by Father Cuthbert at Æscendune. He had scarcely finished when a firm step was heard upon the stairs. “Hush,” said Edwy; “here comes Dunstan. Be sure you look solemn enough,” and he composed his own countenance into an expression of preternatural gravity. The door opened, and an ecclesiastic in the prime of life entered the room, one whose mien impressed the beholder with an indefinable awe. He was dressed in the Benedictine habit, just then becoming common in England, and his features were those of a man formed by nature to command, while they reconciled the beholder to the admission of the fact by the sad yet sweet smile which frequently played on the shapely countenance. He was now in the thirtieth year of his age, having been born in the first year of King Athelstane, and had been abbot of Glastonbury for several years, although his services as counsellor to King Edred had led him to spend much of his time in town, and he had therefore accepted the general direction of the education of the heir to the throne. Such was Dunstan. He seemed but little welcome to Edwy, and the benediction with which he greeted his pupil was but coldly received. Not appearing to notice this, he mildly said, “You must introduce your young companion to me, my prince. Am I not right in concluding that I see before me Elfric, heir to the lands of Æscendune?” Elfric blushed as he bent the knee to the great churchman to receive the priestly benediction with which he was greeted, but remained silent.