"I am glad to see you," he said, with a little courtly inclination of

his head, but certainly with no gladness in his voice. "I hope you are

comfortable here; that you find your work congenial?"

"Oh, yes, my lord," said Celia, and, unconsciously, her voice was

pitched low, like his own; for, somehow or other, she felt as if she

were in the presence of a deep grief, of an unnamed trouble.

"I am very glad," he said again. "You are fond of books, I was told--I

heard--I was given to understand. The collection"--he nodded towards the

library--"is a good one, is it not?"

"A very good one," assented Celia; "it seems to me a magnificent

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library. But, then, I am not qualified to express an opinion. I have not

much experience; I mean, of private libraries; I am used to the British

Museum one only."

"My great grandfather was an enthusiastic collector," said the Marquess;

"but I fear I have not inherited his taste, and have neglected the

library."

In an absent-minded kind of way, he passed into the superb room, and

looked round, reflectively.

"You are making a catalogue, of course? It must be a very heavy task,

especially for one so young."

Celia began to tremble; and at that moment she realized fully how

precious the work and position were to her.

"I am not so very young, my lord," she said, with a little, nervous

smile. "I am twenty-two."

He looked at her with a suspicion of a smile on his lips.

"Youth has much in its favour," he said. "It is rich in energy and in

strength. All the same, one must not abuse either. You are working late

to-night; that is not wise."

"I was out, took a holiday, this afternoon, and was making up for it;

but I enjoy working at night; it is so quiet--but it is always quiet

here, in this great place."

"You have no father and mother?" he said, after a pause, during which he

was trying to remember what Mr. Clendon had told him of her.

"No, my lord," said Celia. "I have no one belonging to me."

"That is sad," he said, more to himself than to her. "Mrs. Dexter looks

after you, I suppose? I must tell her to see that you do not work too

hard."

"She is more than kind to me," said Celia, warmly.




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