footing in the fold, "Fyles, what a pity you aren't the rightful
heir, come from overseas with parchments and parish registers, to
make good your claim before the House of Lords."

"Wouldn't that be rather hard on you?" I asked.

"I'd rather give up everything than see the old place pass to
strangers," she said.

"But I'm a stranger," I said.

"You're Fyles ffrench," she exclaimed, "and a man, and you'd hand
the old name down and keep the estate together."

"And guard the little f with the last drop of my blood," I said.

"Ah, well!" she said, with a little sigh, "the world's a
disappointing place at best, and I suppose it serves us right for
centuries of conceit about ourselves."

"That at least will never die," I observed. "The American branch
will see to that part of it."

"It's a pity, though, isn't it?" she said.

"Well," I said, "when a family has been carrying so much dog for a
thousand years, I suppose in common fairness it's time to give way
for another."

"What is carrying dog?" she said.