Halcyone did not move.

"Who are you, little girl?" he said. "And what do you want?"

"I want to know who you are, and why you have come here?" she answered
fearlessly. "I am Halcyone, you know."

The old man smiled.

"That ought to tell me everything," he said, gravely, "but unfortunately
it does not! Who is Halcyone?"

"I live at La Sarthe Chase with the Aunts La Sarthe," she said proudly,
as though La Sarthe Chase had been Windsor Castle--"and I have been
accustomed to play in this garden. I don't like your being here much."

"I am sorry for that, because it suits me and I have bought it. But how
would it be if I said you might come into the garden still and play?
Would you forgive me then for being here?"

"I might," said Halcyone. "What are all these books for?"

"They are to read."

"I knew that--" and she frowned, beetling her delicate dark brows, "but
why such a lot? You can never read them all."

The old man smiled.

"I have read most of them already," he said. "I have had plenty of time,