In the present instance, when she had remained in the drawing-room with her niece and Sir Edward, for near half an hour after her brother had departed, it just struck her that they might wish to be alone together; for she had made up her mind by this time, that the young officer's visit was to end in a love affair; and, as the very best means of accomplishing the desired object, instead of going to speak with the housekeeper, or to give orders to the dairy-maid, or to talk to the steward,--as any other prudent, respectable, and well-arranged aunt would have done--she said to her niece, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, "I don't think Sir Edward Digby has ever seen the library. Zara, my dear, you had better show it to him. There are some very curious books there, and the manuscript in vellum, with all the kings' heads painted." Zara felt that it was rather a coarse piece of work which her aunt had just turned out of hand; and being a little too much susceptible of ridicule, she did not like to have anything to do with it, although, to say the truth, she was very anxious herself for the few minutes that Mrs. Barbara was inclined to give her. "Oh, I dare say, my dear aunt," she replied, "Sir Edward Digby does not care anything about old books!--I don't believe they have been opened for these fifty years." "The greater the treasure, Miss Croyland," answered the young officer; "I can assure you nothing delights me more than an old library; so I think I shall go and find it out myself, if you are not disposed to show it to me."