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Richard Heber, the bibliotaph, too, had collections of miscellaneous books at Paris, Antwerp, Brussels, and other continental towns, to say nothing of London, where the aristocracy among his treasures were deposited.

It is not to be supposed that the Bibliotaph pleased every one with whom he came in contact.

On the whole it pleased the Bibliotaph to maintain that his friend’s course was downward, and that the sooner he reconciled himself to his undoubted fate the better.

The actor was convinced that the Bibliotaph’s own past life needed looking into, and he declared that when he got a chance he was going to examine the great records.

The chair was interesting to behold, but the Bibliotaph after attempting to sit in it immediately got up and declared that it was not a genuine relic: ‘Sir Edwin had reason to be grateful to rather than indignant at Sir Walter Scott.’