A slight flush swept over Adderley’s face.  But he took the remark without offence, thereby showing himself to be of better mettle than the little affectations of his outward appearance indicated.

“You think so?” he said, placidly—­“That is very dear of you!—­very young!  You may be right—­you may be wrong,—­but from one so unsophisticated as yourself it is a proposition worth considering—­ to pose, or not to pose!  It is so new—­so fresh!”

XVI

Walden kept his promise and duly arrived to tea at the Manor that afternoon.  He found his hostess in the library with Cicely and Julian.  She was showing to the latter one or two rare ’first editions,’ and was talking animatedly, but she broke off her conversation the moment he was announced, and advanced to meet him with a bright smile.

“At last, Mr. Walden!” she said—­“I am glad Cicely has succeeded where I failed, in persuading you to accept the welcome that has awaited you here for some time!”

The words were gracefully spoken, with just the faintest trace of kindly reproach in their intonation.  Simple as they were, they managed to deprive John of all power to frame a suitable reply.  He bowed over the little white hand extended to him, and murmured something which was inaudible even to himself, while he despised what he considered his own foolishness, clumsiness and general ineptitude from the bottom of his heart.  Maryllia saw his embarrassment, and hastened to relieve him of it.

“We have been talking books,”—­she said, lightly—­“Mr. Adderley has almost knelt in adoration before my Shakespeare ‘first folio.’  It is very precious, being uncalendared in the published lists of ordinary commentators.  I suppose you have seen it?”

“Indeed I have”—­replied Walden, as he shook hands with Cicely and nodded pleasantly to Julian—­“I’m afraid, Miss Vancourt, that if you knew how often I have sat alone in this library, turning over the precious volumes, you might be very angry with me!  But I have saved one or two from the encroaches of damp, such as the illuminated vellum ‘Petrarch,’ and some few rare manuscripts—­so you must try to forgive my trespass.  Mrs. Spruce used to let me come in and study here whenever I liked.”

“Will you not do so still?” queried Maryllia, sweetly—­“I can promise you both solitude and silence.”

Again a wave of awkwardness overcame him.  What could he say in response to this friendly and gentle graciousness!

“You are very kind,”—­he murmured.

“Not at all.  The library is very seldom used—­so the kindness will be quite on your side if you can make it of service.  I daresay you know more about the books than I do.  My father was very proud of them.”