"What are you doing, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
"Cataloguing your uncle's library. He has been buying quantities of books for the last two years, as perhaps you know. He has a man in Germany and another in Paris and another in London, who purchase for him, and the boxes are coming over almost every week now. A great case full of the English ones arrived last Saturday,—such beauties! Look at that Ruskin behind you. It is the first edition, with all the plates, worth its weight in gold."
"It's awfully good of you to take so much trouble, I'm sure," remarked Mr. Curtis politely, still with the same mystified look.
"Not at all," replied Georgie, coolly. "It's all in my line of business, you know. Mr. Carrington is to give me a hundred dollars for the job; which is excellent pay, because I can take my own time for doing it, and work at odd moments."
Her interlocutor looked more perplexed than ever. A distinct embarrassment became visible in his manner at the words "job" and "pay."
"Certainly," he said. Then coloring a little he frankly went on, "I don't understand a bit. Would you mind telling me what it all means?"
"Oh, you haven't happened to hear of my 'befalments,' as Miss Sally Scannell would call them."
"I did hear of your mother's death," said Bob, gently, "and I was truly sorry. She was so kind to me always in the old days."
"She was kind to everybody. I am glad you were sorry," said Georgie, bright tears in the eyes which she turned with a grateful look on Bob. "Well, that was the beginning of it all."
There was another pause, during which Bob pulled his moustache nervously! Then he drew a chair to the table and sat down.