s past glory. Later on, Sir Thomas More lived here,
and then Philip Sidney's sister, the Countess of Pembroke, owned it.
Shakespeare mentions it in his play of 'Richard III,' you know. In
mediaeval times, there were many great houses in London (Baynard's
Castle and Cold Harbour foremost among them), but all except a little
part of Crosby Hall have disappeared. The owners of these houses, the
wealthy nobles, lived in great magnificence, having four, six, or even
eight hundred servants. Just fancy how large the establishments must
have been! In Queen Elizabeth's day, the French Ambassador was lodged
here with four hundred retainers. At that time, there were more great
palaces in London than there were in Verona, Florence, Venice, and
Genoa, all counted together; but instead of being situated on the
Grand Canal or in a spacious square, the English palaces stood in
narrow, filthy streets, surrounded by the poor hovels of the common
people.--It seems to me that our lunch is a long time coming," she
commented.

Adjoining Crosby Hall is a very interesting church--St. Helen's, which
has been called the "Westminster Abbey of the City," because of famous
citizens of "the City," who are buried there. Among them is Sir Thomas
Gresham, the great merchant of Queen Elizabeth's reign, who founded
the Royal Exchange, and did much to increase London's trade. The
church--dating mostly from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century--is
very quaint and old. It consists of two parallel naves, divided by
pillars.

"The church was once connected with an ancient nunnery which covered
the whole square outside. The naves were originally quite separated by
a partition; one side was used by the nuns, and the other by the
regular members of the parish. Shakespeare once lived in St. Helen's
parish, and is charged up on the church books with a sum of something
over five pounds." Mrs. Pitt gave this information as they walked
about, gradually growing accustomed to the dim light.

"See here, John," whispered Philip; "here's something interesting.
It's this little square hole in the wall, which is called the 'nuns'
squint.' That woman, whom I suppose is the caretaker, has just been
telling me what that means. You see, the nunnery was on this side, or,
at any rate, the part where the nuns slept. When a nun was dying, the
rest would carry her to that little 'squint,' and in that way she
could look through to the church and see the altar."

Leaving St. H