Several volumes lay together upon the polished mahogany.

The squire laid his hand on one of them.
"I have not deceived you," he said.

"That is a very interesting volume.
It is the black letter Paracelsus I once spoke of.

I have succeeded in getting it at last." "Dear me! What a piece of fortune!" said Mr.Ambrose bending down until his formidable nose almost touched the ancient page.
"Yes," said the squire, "uncommonly lucky as usual.

Now, excuse my abruptness in changing the subject--I want to consult you upon an important matter." The vicar looked up quickly with that vague, faraway expression which comes into the eyes of a student when he is suddenly called away from contemplating some object of absorbing interest.
"Certainly," he said, "certainly--a--by all means." "It is about Mrs.Goddard," said the squire, looking hard at his visitor.
"Of course it is between ourselves," he added.
The vicar's long upper lip descended upon its fellow and he bent his rough grey eyebrows, returning Mr.Juxon's sharp look with interest.