In response to my ring, the door was opened by a grave and quiet maid-servant of the olden school; capped, aproned and slippered, with gray hairs thickly sprinkling the brown. On learning my name she directed me to ascend to the study in the fourth story, where I would have no difficulty in finding the master of the house.
As I passed up the wide staircase trod by so many feet now motionless, I could see through the open doors, as well as in all the halls, shelves upon shelves of closely-packed books, and long tables and racks in great numbers, laden with what seemed maps and charts of nothing in particular, or things in general. It was evident, however, that whatever archives these were, they were numerous, well arranged, and of great diversity of age and subject.
The fourth story reached, I found myself in a great loft-like apartment, covering nearly the entire floor, and filled, like these below it, with book-laden cases, and tables thickly strewn with charts and great portfolios.
My host received me with the grave sweet courtesy which sat so well upon him, and begged me to permit him for a few moments to
