"I like books better than anything," said Fred.

"I always have a lot of novels down at our quarters.

But a fellow can't be reading all day, and there isn't a novel in the house except Walter Scott's and a lot of old rubbish.

By-the-bye have you read 'All Isn't Gold That Glitters ?'" Miss Mellerby had not read the tale named.
"That's what I call a good novel." Day passed after day and it seemed as though he was expected to remain at Scroope without any definite purpose, and, worse still, without any fixed limit to his visit.

At his aunt's instigation he rode about the property and asked questions as to the tenants.