At this, Miss Blaythwaite and Worthing looked at each other in astonishment. Hooker thought he saw a mysterious understanding between them. He became at once insanely jealous of the athletic young man who was discoursing so eloquently of Tamerlane "in boards, uncut."
"Meadowbrook?" persisted Hooker.
"I suppose so," returned Worthing, in an uninterested manner.
Yes, this talk of books had become decidedly distasteful to the once enthusiastic bibliophile.
"By the way, Mr. Hooker," said Miss Blaythwaite, "I've made up my mind about the Abelard missal. Jack and I think it would be a good thing to give it to the Metropolitan Museum."
"I quite agree with you, Miss Blaythwaite," said poor Hooker. "There it would always be safe from fire, and could be seen by the public. It is certainly the proper thing to do."
At this, Miss Blaythwaite seemed overjoyed.
When Worthing left, after an interminable time, Robert Hooker sat by her side upon the old Chippendale sofa in her father's library. When she discoursed of books and learning, he would quietly change the subject.
He wanted to hear about herself, and what she had been doing since he saw her last. As for himself—he was going away. He was taking a steamer next Saturday for Europe.
She asked him quietly if he did not want to take a last look at the breviary.