For, besides a good deal of reading of history and classics (for which Percy was rapidly developing a considerable taste), and a good deal of discussion on all sorts of topics, they were deep in constructing the model of a new kind of bookcase, designed by Percy, with some ingenious contrivances for keeping out dust and for marking, by means of automatic signals, the place of any book which should be taken from its shelf.

This wonderful work of art promised to eclipse every bookcase ever invented.

The only drawback to it was that it was too good.

Percy insisted on introducing into it every "dodge" of which he was capable, and the poor model more than once threatened to collapse under the burden of its own ingenuity.
However, they stuck to it, and by dint of sacrificing a "dodge" here and a "dodge" there, they succeeded in producing a highly curious and not unworthy model, which Percy was most urgent that his father should forthwith adopt for his library, all the existing bookcases being sacrificed for firewood to make way for the new ones.
Mr Rimbolt diplomatically promised to give the matter his consideration, and consult authorities on the subject when next in London, and meanwhile was not unsparing in his compliments to the inventor and his coadjutor.
So the time passed happily enough for Jeffreys, until about three weeks after the Scarfes' departure, when the following amiable letter reached him with the Oxford post-mark on the envelope:-- Christ Church, _February 20th_.
"Jeffreys,--You may have supposed that because I left Wildtree without showing you up in your proper character as a murderer and a hypocrite, that I have changed my opinions as to what is my duty to Mr Rimbolt and his family in this matter.

It is not necessary for me to explain to you why I did not do it at once, especially after the blackguardly manner in which you acted on the last evening of my stay there.