"And what may the price be?" he asked.
"It is in four volumes at twelve and sixpence," said Mary melodiously.
"The four?"
"Oh no—each! Thick volumes they are; do you think it's dear?"
"No," he said; "oh no!—a very valuable book, I've no doubt."
"Then perhaps you will give me an order for it?" she inquired, scarcely able to contain her elation.
"No," he said, still perusing an article, "I will not give an order for it; I have so many books."
She stared at him in blank disappointment while he read placidly to the end of a page.
"There," he said benevolently; "a capital work! It deserves to sell largely; the publishers should be hopeful of it. The plates are bold, and the matter seems to me of a high degree of excellence. The fault I usually condemn in such illustrations is the mistake of making 'pictures' of them, to the detriment of their usefulness; clearness is always the grand desideratum in an illustration of a mechanical contrivance. With this, the customary blunder has been avoided; in looking through the specimen I've scarcely detected one instance where I would suggest an alteration. And, though I wouldn't promise"—he laughed good-humouredly—"but what on a more careful inspection I might be forced to temper praise with blame, I'm inclined, on the whole, to give the book my hearty commendation."
"But will you buy it?" demanded Miss Brettan.