I thought she blushed, notwithstanding the air of freedom with which she spoke. ‘If he should come into the property to-morrow,’ she went on, ‘I fear you would have little chance of completing your work.’ ‘If he came into the property this day six months, I fear he would find it unfinished. Certainly what was to do should remain undone.’ ‘Don’t be too sure of that. He might win you over. He can talk.’ ‘I should not be so readily pleased as another might.’ She bent towards me, and said in an almost hissing whisper-- ‘Wilfrid, I hate him!’ I started. She looked what she said. The blood shot to my heart, and again rushed to my face. But suddenly she retreated into her own room, and noiselessly closed the door. The same moment I heard that of a further room open, and presently Miss Brotherton peeped in. ‘How do you do, Mr Cumbermede?’ she said. ‘You are already hard at work, I see.’ I was, in fact, doing nothing. I explained that I could not make a commencement without the use of another room. ‘I will send the housekeeper, and you can arrange with her,’ she said, and left me. In a few minutes Mrs Wilson entered. Her manner was more stiff and formal than ever. We shook hands in a rather limp fashion. ‘You’ve got your will at last, Mr Cumbermede,’ she said, ‘I suppose the thing’s to be done!’ ‘It is, Mrs Wilson, I am happy to say. Sir Giles kindly offered me the use of the library, and I took the liberty of representing to him that there was no library until the books were arranged.’ ‘Why couldn’t you take a book away with you and read it in comfort at home?’ ‘How could I take the book home if I couldn’t find it?’ ‘You could find something worth reading, if that were all you wanted.’ ‘But that is not all. I have plenty of reading.’ ‘Then I don’t see what’s the good of it.’ ‘Books are very much like people, Mrs Wilson. There are not so many you want to know all about; but most could tell you things you don’t know. I want certain books in order to question them about certain things.’ ‘Well, all I know is, it’ll be more trouble than it’s worth.’ ‘I am afraid it will--to you, Mrs Wilson; but though I am taking a thousand times your trouble, I expect to be well repaid for it.’ ‘I have no doubt of that. Sir Giles is a liberal gentleman.’ ‘You don’t suppose _he_ is going to pay me, Mrs Wilson?’ ‘Who else should?’ ‘Why, the books themselves, of course.’ Evidently she thought I was making game of her, for she was silent. ‘Will you show me which room I can have?’ I said. ‘It must be as near this one as possible. Is the next particularly wanted?’ I asked, pointing to the door which led into Clara’s room. She went to it quickly, and opened it far enough to put her hand in and take the key from the other side, which she then inserted on my side, turned in the lock, drew out, and put in her pocket. ‘That room is otherwise engaged,’ she said. ‘You must be content with one across the corridor.’