So many books of rarity and value had revealed themselves, that it was not difficult to make Sir Giles comprehend in some degree the importance of such a possession. He had grown more and more interested as the work went on; and even Lady Brotherton, although she much desired to have, at least, the oldest and most valuable of the books re-bound in red morocco first, was so far satisfied with what she was told concerning the worth of the library, that she determined to invite some of the neighbours to dinner, for the sake of showing it. The main access to it was to be by the armoury; and she had that side of the gallery round the hall which led thither covered with a thick carpet. Meantime Charley had looked over all the papers in my chest, but, beyond what I have already stated, no fact of special interest had been brought to light. In sending an invitation to Charley, Lady Brotherton could hardly avoid sending me one as well: I doubt whether I should otherwise have been allowed to enjoy the admiration bestowed on the result of my labours. The dinner was formal and dreary enough: the geniality of one of the heads of a household is seldom sufficient to give character to an entertainment. ‘They tell me you are a buyer of books, Mr Alderforge,’ said Mr Mellon to the clergyman of a neighbouring parish, as we sat over our wine. ‘Quite a mistake,’ returned Mr Alderforge. ‘I am a reader of books.’ ‘That of course! But you buy them first--don’t you?’ ‘Not always. I sometimes borrow them.’ ‘That I never do. If a book is worth borrowing, it is worth buying.’ ‘Perhaps--if you can afford it. But many books that book-buyers value I count worthless--for all their wide margins and uncut leaves.’ ‘Will you come-and have a look at Sir Giles’s library?’ I ventured to say. ‘I never heard of a library at Moldwarp Hall, Sir Giles,’ said Mr Mellon. ‘I am given to understand there is a very valuable one,’ said Mr Alderforge. ‘I shall be glad to accompany you, sir,’ he added, turning to me, ‘--if Sir Giles will allow us.’ ‘You cannot have a better guide than Mr Cumbermede,’ said Sir Giles. ‘I am indebted to him almost for the discovery--altogether for the restoration of the library.’ ‘Assisted by Miss Brotherton and her friends, Sir Giles,’ I said. ‘A son of Mr Cumbermede of Lowdon Farm, I presume?’ said Alderforge, bowing interrogatively. ‘A nephew,’ I answered. ‘He was a most worthy man.--By the way, Sir Giles, your young friend here must be a distant connection of your own. I found in some book or other lately, I forget where at the moment, that there were Cumbermedes at one time in Moldwarp Hall.’ ‘Yes--about two hundred years ago, I believe. It passed to our branch of the family some time during the troubles of the seventeenth century--I hardly know how--I am not much of an historian.’