feel a little selfish, too, for keeping Betty out of her stable so long." "As a reward we will keep you a little longer," he remarked. "It is only six o'clock!" She shook her head. "No I won't stop, thanks! There are some tiresome people coming to dine to-night, and I must go home. Good-bye, Lady de Vaux!" Paul strolled down the hall with her and handed her into the carriage. For the first time in his life he [pg 109] held her hand a little tighter and a little longer than was necessary. [pg 109] "Shall you be at home to-morrow afternoon, Lady May?" he asked quietly. She looked up at him for a moment, and then her eyes drooped, and her heart beat a little faster. She understood him. "Yes!" she answered softly. "I shall ride over then! Good-bye!" "Good-bye!" He lingered on the doorstep for a minute, watching the carriage roll down the avenue. When it had disappeared, he turned back into the hall, and after a moment's hesitation, entered the library. It was a large, sombre-looking apartment, scarcely ever entered by anyone save Paul. The bookcases reached only half-way up the walls, the upper portion of which was hung with oil portraits, selected from the picture gallery. At the lower end of the room the shelves had been built out at right angles to the wall, lined with books, and in one of the recesses so-formed—almost as large as an ordinary-sized chamber—Paul had his writing-table surrounded by his favourite volumes. It was a delightful little miniature library. Facing him, six rows of black oak shelves held a fine collection of classical [pg 110] literature; on his left, the lower shelves contained rare editions of the early English dramatists, and the upper ones were given up to poetry, from Chaucer to Swinburne. The right-hand shelves were wholly French, from quaint volumes of troubadours' poetry to Alfred de Musset and De Maupassant. It was here Paul spent most of his time when at the Abbey. [pg 110] The meet had been rather a long way off that morning, and he had left before the
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