So Mary brought me a big serviceable apron, and manufactured me a mob-cap out of a piece of muslin, to keep my hair from the dust, and, so protected, I began my labours. Mary had the remaining packing-cases opened for me, so that I had all the books under my hand. I said to myself that I was giving General MacNeill a _quid pro quo_ for reading his books, but I really set out to arrange them for the sheer pleasure the task gave me. It was slow work, but it was quite delightful when one had got a comely shelf-full of them together, to sit down and survey one's handiwork, and enjoy a well-earned rest and recreation. But between finding out the books and sorting them, and occasionally altering the whole arrangement of them, things got on slowly. It was nearing the month's end, and yet only one side of the library had been done. I was beginning to grow hopeless about finishing the job before the General should arrive and put a stop to my labours, but as yet there was no word of his coming. I dreaded that coming, which should shut me out of the library, and send me back to my former loneliness. I had gone over one afternoon, and entered by the garden as usual, and, having donned my cap and apron, I was working away furiously at an upper shelf. Suddenly I heard a cough behind me, and it startled me so much that it was a mercy I didn't fall. But my lameness has taught me caution, so I turned round very carefully and sat down on the top step of the ladder to survey the intruder. It was an old gentleman with a face the colour of mahogany and a bristling white moustache--General MacNeill, of course. Neither of us said anything for a minute, and then he coughed again, a short sharp cough, exactly like a little bark. At the sound, Paudeen, who had been eyeing him watchfully from the rug at the door on which he lay every afternoon, responded with a bark which might have been an echo. The old fellow looked towards Paudeen irately, as if he suspected mockery, then back at me. "What is your name, my girl, and what are you doing with those books?" he snapped. "My name is Brandon, sir," said I meekly, "and I'm putting the books in order." "H'm! You'll be a strange kind of housemaid if you're able to do that. Who put you to do it?--Mrs. O'Connor? Hey? What kind of a fool is the woman to put you to such work?" "If you please, sir," said I, "she didn't. I put myself to it." "Hoity-toity! Is this how discipline is kept? How do you suppose that plan would work in the army, young woman, if every man put himself to whatever work he liked?" "Badly," said I. "Badly is the word," he said emphatically. "And now if you'll please to step off that ladder I'll see what kind of hay you've been making of my library." I came down meekly and stood watching him, while he went up in my place and began examining my shelves.