Just in time Lucy remembered that there were Vera's books. 'Do you mind very much going up to the sitting-room?' she asked. 'Vera's books----' Miss Entwhistle did mind very much going up to the sitting-room, and saw no reason why Vera's books should be chosen. Why should she have to read Vera's books? Why did Lucy want just those, and look so odd and guilty about it? Certainly the child needed feeding up. It wasn't natural, it was unwholesome, this queer attraction she appeared to feel towards Vera. She didn't say anything of this, but remarked that there was a room called the library in the house which suggested books, and hadn't she better choose something from out of that,--go down, instead of go up. Lucy, painfully flushed, looked at her. Nothing would induce her to tell her about the key. Aunt Dot would think it so ridiculous. 'Yes, but Everard----' she stammered. 'They're rather special books--he doesn't like them taken out of the room----' 'Oh,' said Miss Entwhistle, trying hard to avoid any opinion of any sort. 'But I don't see why you should go up all those stairs, Aunt Dot darling,' Lucy went on. 'Lizzie will, won't you, Lizzie? Bring down some of the books--any of them. An armful.' Lizzie, thus given _carte blanche_, brought down the six first books from the top shelf, and set them on the table beside Lucy. Lucy recognised the cover of one of them at once, it was _Wuthering Heights_. Miss Entwhistle took it up, read its title in silence, and put it down again. The next one was Emily Brontë's collected poems. Miss Entwhistle took it up, read its title in silence, and put it down again. The third one was Thomas Hardy's _Time's Laughing-Stocks_. Miss Entwhistle took it up, read its title in silence, and put it down again. The other three were Baedekers. 'Well, I don't think there's anything I want to read here,' she said. Lizzie asked if she should take them away then, and bring some more; and presently she reappeared with another armful. These were all Baedekers. 'Curious,' said Miss Entwhistle. Then Lucy remembered that she, too, beneath her distress on Saturday when she pulled out one after the other of Vera's books in her haste to understand her, to get comfort, to get, almost she hoped, counsel, had felt surprise at the number of Baedekers. The greater proportion of the books in Vera's shelves were guide-books and time-tables. But there had been other things,--'If you were to bring some out of a different part of the bookcase,' she suggested to Lizzie; who thereupon removed the Baedekers, and presently reappeared with more books.