Another I brought him, with the same result; a third, a fourth, and so on throughout the whole shelf.
"Are you not tired?" he asked with smooth irony.
"Oh, no," I replied, smiling, "shall I begin another shelf?"
"No, you need not," he answered, giving it up, "it is an old treatise on mineralogy that has long been lost."
I turned to the window; the book I had been reading on the preceding day still lay there open; I silently handed it to my grandfather, who gave it and then me a look of profound surprise, followed by a remarkable smoothing down of mien and accent.
"How did you find it?" he asked, looking at it with evident satisfaction.
"By chance, Sir."
"By chance! Oh! I have another thing missing. Ray's 'Chaos and Creation,' perhaps you could find that too, eh?"
He looked at me thoughtfully. Anxious to conciliate him, I replied, eagerly:
"Perhaps I might, Sir."