"It is a large place for one to live in alone," she said, and laughed.

"There's a book at the Widow Constance's; Barbara once showed it to me.

It is all about a pilgrim; and there's a picture of a great square house, quite like this, that was a giant's castle,--Giant Despair.

Good giant, eat me not!" Child, woman, spirit of the woodland, she passed before him into a dim, cool room, all littered with books.

"My library," said Haward, with a wave of his hand.