Walker thought of the brown paper parcel, which seemed to have a certain solidity, but said nothing. In the first place, if eight hundred books occupied so much space, a quarter of that number would fit in no ordinary sheet of brown paper. Secondly, Mr. Armathwaite's manner did not invite unnecessary questions. The kitchen and scullery were soon dealt with. There was coal in a cellar, and a supply of wood, and a number of lamps drew attention to some tins of oil. "How much for this lot?" inquired the would-be tenant. "Nothing," said Walker, in a sudden fit of generosity. "These stores were left by Mrs. Wilkins, and lost sight of during the row. My, what a bother she raised!" "Yet there is no ghost; we have Betty's word for it. Now--the bedrooms." The "best" bedroom--that in the south-east angle--was certainly not in disorder. Indeed, it looked fresher and cleaner than any of the others; the bed was spotless; even the window-sill had been dusted recently. "Of course," said the agent, "those two silly women have been tidying things up a bit for the season. I'm getting the hang of things by degrees. They're afraid I might think it should have been done sooner." "Probably," agreed Armathwaite, who, however, held a somewhat different view. The girl was not afraid of Mr. James Walker. Of whom, then, or of what? If the inquiry interested him he would find out. The remaining bedrooms held at least one year's dust. A box-room, lumber-room, and servant's bedroom occupied the second floor. In the ceiling of a small lobby there was a trap-door. "That leads to a space beneath the roof," said Walker. "By the way, there ought to be a ladder. It's gone." Being, as has been seen, of active habit, he brought a chair from the bedroom, stood on it, pushed up the flap, and peered into the semi-obscurity of a triangular, rafter-lined attic, lighted only by a tiny square of glass cemented into one of the flat stone slabs of the roof. "Oh, here it is," he announced. "Shall I pull it out?" "No, thanks," said Armathwaite. "I don't suppose I shall mount so high again during my tenancy." The younger man closed the trap, and, as it had been unfastened previously, shot a bolt into its socket. "Well, that ends it," he said, brushing some grime off his hands. "If you care to stroll through the garden you'll find plenty of fruit coming on. This should be a good year for apples and plums, I'm told. It's too late to raise any potatoes or vegetables, but the village will supply plenty of table stuff, and cheap, too." "Let me see," mused Armathwaite aloud. "Fifteen pounds rent, and, say, two guineas for your fee, and another guinea for the conveyance--eighteen pounds three shillings in all. Let us adjourn to the library, and I'll pay you, sign the agreement, and initial the inventory. Then I need not detain you any longer, Mr. Walker." The agent looked blank, as well he might. He was flustered, too, by the terms offered for his valuable services.