still more impressive. Keith had been to church once or twice, and for a
moment he thought himself in one. But he saw no seats, and his father
did not look solemn at all. The walls were of stone curiously streaked
and coloured. The ceiling was so far up that Keith had to bend far
backwards to see it. It was full of ornaments and supported by two rows
of tall round stone pillars so thick that Keith could not get his arms
halfway around one of them. In the background rose a very broad and
seemingly endless stairway of white stone. While they climbed it step by
step, Keith wondered if the king in his palace had anything like it.

Arrived at the top at last, they turned into a sort of lobby--a rather
bare room with several plain desks by the windows and many hooks along
the inner wall. There the father took off both his coats and armed
himself with a huge feather duster and a rag.

"Remember, Keith," he said in his ordinary tone, "that you may look as
much as you please, but that you must not touch anything. If you do, you
can never come here again."

Having passed through several smaller rooms, they emerged finally into a
hall so bright and spacious that Keith stopped with a gasp and for a
moment thought himself in the open air again. It was as wide as the
building itself and three sides were full of large windows A counter of
mahogany that looked miles long ran from one end to the other. The place
behind it contained many desks so tall that Keith could not have reached
the tops of them with his raised hand. But from a distance he could see
that they were full of tempting things--paper and pens and pencils, red
bars of sealing wax, glue-pots and rulers and glistening shears.

Two men, also in their shirt-sleeves, were busy at the desks, dusting