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In the Midst of Alarms Part 19

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"I think that is a very good way, and I will adopt it."

"Then let me send to Toronto and get you a few hundred cards. We'll have them here in a day or two."

"Oh, I don't want to put you to that trouble."

"It is no trouble at all. Now, that is settled, let us attack the catalogue. Have you a blank book anywhere about? We will first make an alphabetical list; then we will arrange them under the heads of history, biography, fiction, and so on."

Simple as it appeared, the making of a catalogue took a long time. Both were absorbed in their occupation. Cataloguing in itself is a straight and narrow path, but in this instance there were so many delightful side excursions that rapid progress could not be expected. To a reader the mere mention of a book brings up recollections. Margaret was reading out the names; Renmark, on slips of paper, each with a letter on it, was writing them down.



"Oh, have you that book?" he would say, looking up as a t.i.tle was mentioned. "Have you ever read it?"

"No; for, you see, this part of the library is all new to me. Why, here is one of which the leaves are not even cut. No one has read it. Is it good?"

"One of the best," Renmark would say, taking the volume. "Yes, I know this edition. Let me read you one pa.s.sage."

And Margaret would sit in the rocking while he cut the leaves and found the place. One extract was sure to suggest another, and time pa.s.sed before the t.i.tle of the book found its way to the proper slip of paper. These excursions into literature were most interesting to both excursionists, but they interfered with cataloguing. Renmark read and read, ever and anon stopping to explain some point, or quote what someone else had said on the same subject, marking the place in the book, as he paused, with inserted fore finger. Margaret swayed back and forth in the comfortable rocking chair, and listened intently, her large dark eyes fixed upon him so earnestly that now and then, when he met them, he seemed disconcerted for a moment. But the girl did not notice this. At the end of one of his dissertations she leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair, with her cheek resting against her hand, and said:

"How very clear you make everything, Mr. Renmark."

"Do you think so?" he said with a smile. "It's my business, you know."

"I think it's a shame that girls are not allowed to go to the university; don't you?"

"Really, I never gave any thought to the subject, and I am not quite prepared to say."

"Well, I think it most unfair. The university is supported by the Government, is it not? Then why should half of the population be shut out from its advantages?"

"I'm afraid it wouldn't do, you know."

"Why?"

"There are many reasons," he replied evasively.

"What are they? Do you think girls could not learn, or are not as capable of hard study as well as----"

"It isn't that," he interrupted; "there are plenty of girls' schools in the country, you know. Some very good ones in Toronto itself, for that matter."

"Yes; but why shouldn't I go to the university with my brother? There are plenty of boys' schools, too, but the university is the university.

I suppose my father helps to support it. Why, then, should one child be allowed to attend and the other not? It isn't at all just."

"It wouldn't do," said the professor more firmly, the more he thought about it.

"Would you take that as a satisfying reason from one or your students?"

"What?"

"The phrase, 'It wouldn't do.'"

Renmark laughed.

"I'm afraid not," he said; "but, then, I'm very exacting in cla.s.s. Now, if you want to know, why do you not ask your father?"

"Father and I have discussed the question, often, and he quite agrees with me in thinking it unfair."

"Oh, does he?" said Renmark, taken aback; although, when he reflected, he realized that the father doubtless knew as little about the dangers of the city as the daughter did.

"And what does your mother say?"

"Oh, mother thinks if a girl is a good housekeeper it is all that is required. So you will have to give me a good reason, if there is one, for n.o.body else in this house argues on your side of the question."

"Well," said Renmark in an embarra.s.sed manner, "if you don't know by the time you are twenty-five, I'll promise to discuss the whole subject with you."

Margaret sighed as she leaned back in her chair.

"Twenty-five?" she cried, adding with the unconscious veracity of youth: "That will be seven years to wait. Thank you, but I think I'll find out before that time."

"I think you will," Renmark answered.

They were interrupted by the sudden and unannounced entrance of her brother.

"h.e.l.lo, you two!" he shouted with the rude familiarity of a boy. "It seems the library takes a longer time to arrange than usual."

Margaret rose with dignity.

"We are cataloguing," she said severely.

"Oh, that's what you call it, is it? Can I be of any a.s.sistance, or is two company when they're cataloguing? Have you any idea what time it is?"

"I'm afraid I must be off," said the professor, rising. "My companion in camp won't know what has become of me."

"Oh, he's all right!" said Henry. "He's down at the Corners, and is going to stay there for the meeting to-night. Young Bartlett pa.s.sed a while ago; he was getting the horses shod, and your friend went with him. I guess Yates can take care of himself, Mr. Renmark. Say, sis, will you go to the meeting? I'm going. Young Bartlett's going, and so is Kitty. Won't you come, too, Mr. Renmark? It's great fun."

"Don't talk like that about a religious gathering, Henry," said his sister, frowning.

"Well, that's what it is, anyhow."

"Is it a prayer meeting?" asked the professor, looking at the girl.

"You bet it is!" cried Henry enthusiastically, giving no one a chance to speak but himself. "It's a prayer meeting, and every other kind of meeting all rolled into one. It's a revival meeting; a protracted meeting, that's what it is. You had better come with us, Mr. Renmark, and then you can see what it is like. You can walk home with Yates."

This attractive _denouement_ did not seem to appeal so strongly to the professor as the boy expected, for he made no answer.

"You will come, sis; won't you?" urged the boy.

"Are you sure Kitty is going?"

"Of course she is. You don't think she'd miss it, do you? They'll soon be here, too; better go and get ready."

"I'll see what mother says," replied Margaret as she left the room.

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