Walker this afternoon, the first thing he said to me was, "You
know Alfred Yule pretty well, I think?" "Pretty well," I
answered; "why?" "I'll tell you," he said, "but it's between you
and me, you understand. Rackett is thinking about him in
connection with The Study." "I'm delighted to hear it." "To tell
you the truth," went on Nat, "I shouldn't wonder if Yule gets the
editorship; but you understand that it would be altogether
premature to talk about it." Now what do you think of this, eh?'

'It's very good news,' answered Marian.

'I should think so! Ho, ho!'

Mr Quarmby laughed in a peculiar way, which was the result of
long years of mirth-subdual in the Reading-room.

'But not a breath to anyone but your father. He'll be here to-
morrow? Break it gently to him, you know; he's an excitable man;
can't take things quietly, like I do. Ho, ho!'

His suppressed laugh ended in a fit of coughing--the Reading-room
cough. When he had recovered from it, he pressed Marian's hand
with paternal fervour, and waddled off to chatter with someone
else.

Marian replaced several books on the reference-shelves, returned
others to the central desk, and was just leaving the room, when
again a voice made demand upon her attention.

'Miss Yule! One moment, if you please!'