"'I think choosing a home is something like choosing a companion for
life. It is chiefly important to like it. There must be faults
everywhere. Do you take to the place, my dear?'

"'I like it certainly,' said my father. 'But the question is not what
I like, but what you like.'

"Then I knew it was settled, and breathed freely. For though my father
always consulted my mother's wishes, she generally contrived to choose
what she knew he would prefer. And she chose Reka Dom.

* * * * *

"Henceforward good luck seemed to follow our new home.

"First, as to the landlord. The old woman had certainly not
exaggerated his oddity. But one of his peculiarities was a most
fortunate one for us. He was a bibliomaniac--a lover and collector of
valuable and curious books. When my father called on him to arrange
about the house, he found him sitting almost in rags, apparently
dining upon some cheese-parings, and surrounded by a library, the
value of which would have fed and clothed him with comfort for an
almost indefinite period. Upon the chair behind him sat a large black
cat with yellow eyes.

"When my father was ushered in, he gazed for a moment in silent
astonishment at the unexpected sight. Books in shelf after shelf up to
the ceiling, and piled in heaps upon the floor. As he stood
speechless, the little old man put down the plate, gathered his ragged