An Elder Brother by Eglanton Thorne

SOME weeks passed by, and Michael saw nothing more of little Margery. He thought of her more than once, wondering how it was with her and her little brother, now that their father was no more. Sometimes when the sudden tinkling of the bell over the shop door warned him of the approach of a customer, he would look up, half hoping that he might see the wee figure in the green cloak and close-fitting velvet bonnet. But Margery did not come, and if she had, she would not have worn the green cloak. That had been exchanged for sombre black, which gave a new and pathetic beauty to her sweet, round, pink and white face.

More than a month had passed since the professor's death, when one evening the servant who had accompanied little Margery when she came to pay the fourpence entered the shop, and asked Michael if he could call at No. 48, Gower Street, on the following morning, as her mistress wished to see him. After a moment's reflection, Michael replied that he would come, and added an inquiry as to the health of the little lady who had accompanied her when she came before.

"Miss Margery is quite well, thank you," replied the maid, "and as much of a chatterbox as ever. I never knew such a child for asking you questions and saying queer things. There's no knowing how to answer her."

"Did she grieve much for her father? " asked Michael.

"Well, yes, she cried a great deal. She was fond of her father, was Miss Margery. And it upset her to see her mother crying. But she got over it sooner than you would think. Children quickly forget their troubles. If you could have seen her and her little brother playing together on the day their father was buried, you'd have been surprised. But, there, it wasn't to be expected they could miss their father, for they saw so little of him. He was always shut up in his study with his books. A regular bookworm he was. You couldn't call him nothing else."

Michael made no reply; but he wondered whether, if he had been the father of a sweet little girl like Margery, he would have been content to live shut up with his books all day.

"Then I may tell Mrs. Lavers that you will come to-morrow morning at ten o'clock? " said the maid as she turned to go.

Michael assented. He was not surprised that Mrs. Lavers should send for him. It frequently happened that his attendance was requested at houses where there had been a recent bereavement, necessitating considerable changes. The professor's widow doubtless wished to dispose of some or all of her husband's books.

Michael was not mistaken. On his arrival at the house he was at once ushered into the late professor's library, and whilst he waited there, he feasted his eyes on the contents of the ample bookshelves, which were fully and richly stocked. He had time to form a good estimate of the value of the books ere Mrs. Lavers came into the room.

The professor's widow was a delicate, graceful woman of about thirty-five years of age. Her face was pale, and it had a very careworn, sorrowful expression; but it still bore the traces of past beauty, and the fair, rippling hair which showed beneath her widow's cap, and her soft blue eyes, reminded Michael of little Margery. As she addressed him, Michael knew instinctively that he had to deal with a true lady in the highest sense of the term. And she, glancing at him, was struck with his air of respectability, and believed that she might trust in his integrity.

"I sent for you, Mr. Betts," she said, "because I am obliged to part with my husband's books. I have to move into a very small house, into which I cannot take them. And indeed for other reasons I feel it my duty to sell them. I have been advised to show them to you; I have been told that I may trust you to give me a fair price for them."

"I can give you as good a price for them as any one in the trade, madam," replied Michael promptly. "Though I say it myself, it's true that I understand the second-hand book market as well as any one can. Do I understand that you wish to part with all the books in this room?"

"Yes, all of them," said the lady, with a sigh; "I have taken away such as I want to retain."

"Then with your permission, madam, I will make a brief inspection of the shelves, after which I shall be able to tell you the sum I can offer."

The lady made a sign of assent, and sank wearily into a large easy chair which stood by the hearth. She watched him with a melancholy expression on her face as he slowly directed his glance from shelf to shelf, occasionally pausing to jot down certain titles in his notebook.

Michael had already made up his mind as to the probable value of the books; but he was not going to commit himself till he had made a thorough survey of the shelves. When at last he had fully satisfied himself as to the number and character of the books, he turned to the lady and named the sum he was willing to give for them.

Mrs. Lavers' delicate cheek flushed as she heard it. She looked at him with troubled eyes. "No more than that! " she said. "It seems very little. Why, my husband spent pounds and pounds every year upon books."

" I've no doubt he did, madam; but buying and selling are different things. I know what I may expect to make by these books, and I assure you it would not pay me to give more."

"No? Well, of course you know best. " She looked disappointed and anxious. "I must think more about it before I decide."

"Certainly, madam. You may like to consult other dealers, perhaps; but I do not think any one in the trade will offer you more than I do."