a hole in the floor, and let it go at that; and--but what wasn't
there, indeed, in that extraordinary old feudal citadel, which had
been in continuous human possession since the era of Hardicanute.
There seemed to be only one thing missing in the whole castle, and
that was a bath--though I dare say there was one in the private
apartments not shown to me. It was a regular dive into the last
five hundred years, and the fact that it wasn't a museum nor
exploited by a sing-song cicerone, helped to make it for me a
memorable and really thrilling experience. I conjured up my
forebears and could see them playing as children, growing to
manhood, passing into old age, and finally dying in the shadow of
those same massive walls. Verna said I was quite pale when we
emerged at last into the open air on the summit of the high square
tower; and no wonder that I was, for in a kind of way I had been
deeply impressed, and it seemed a solemn thing that I, like her,
should be a child of this castle, with roots deep cast in far-off
ages.

"Wouldn't it be horrible," I said, "if I found out I wasn't a
ffrench at all--but had really sprung from a low-down, capital F
family in the next county or somewhere!"

"Oh, but you are a real ffrench," said Verna.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I can FEEL it," she said. "I never felt that kind of sensation
before towards anybody except my father!"

I hardly knew whether to be pleased or not. And besides, it didn't