"But parks may be a very old institution," said Bessie, "if we looked
into the thing, though not so old as Forrester: that is an ancient
name," glancing at Edwin, who was leaning against a sentry-box
listening and watching the sun putting out the lights in his
bed-chamber; "yet not nearly so ancient as Ormiston. I always feel
it is fitting we should live in an old castle, we are so ancient
ourselves."

"Are we?" said John: "I never knew that before."

"Ormiston," she said, "is perhaps as pure a Saxon word as now exists.
It was during the Roman invasion our ancestor led an army through a
dense mist against the invaders: just as he came up with them the sun
shone out and the mist. The legions were taken by surprise, for the
advancing enemy had been hidden by the mist, and they were utterly
routed. The Saxon king--"

"What was his name?" asked John.

"John," she said, "don't seek to be wise above what is revealed. The
king called our ancestor to the front and made him earl of Ormiston on
the spot--'Gold-Mist-on;' that is, 'Be ever in the van;' and a proud
race were the earls of Ormiston, and well they answered to the name.
But their fortunes waned when the modern upstart, the Norman William,
laid his greedy hands on everything for himself and his mob of
pirates, and at present we are only middle-class people, but our blood
must be the bluest of the blue."

"Mine must be as blue," said Edwin, "for the Forresters came in with