dly, "Oh, let's go and see the cave! Can't we?"

"I'm afraid not, John. You see, Guy's Cliff belongs to Lord Algernon
Percy, and the cave is on his private premises. I fear we would not be
allowed to visit it,--especially as the family is now in residence at
the castle. Did I tell you that Guy and his faithful wife were buried
together in the cave?"

After taking lunch at the King's Arms Hotel at Kenilworth, and seeing
the room in which Scott wrote his novel, they proceeded to the castle.
The afternoon was warm and sunny, with a blue sky and a summer haze
over the landscape,--the kind of afternoon which invites one to
day-dreams. Consequently, Mrs. Pitt ensconced herself against the
crumbling wall of Caesar's Tower, put up her umbrella to keep off the
glare of the sun, and sat dreaming over the remains of the once
magnificent castle. Meanwhile the young people, accompanied by a
guide, climbed all over the ruin. They scrambled up narrow stairs in
thick walls, climbed as high as it was safe to go on old towers, and
explored the dark chambers and passages near the old Banqueting-hall.

"This tower is supposed to be where Amy Robsart's lodgings were,"
their dignified guide told them, and then he boldly spoiled Betty's
delight, by saying, "It's queer now how fascinated all visitors are by
Amy Robsart. Of course, they've read of her in Scott's novel, but
curiously enough, that's the only part of the tale which is not taken
strictly from history. No one really knows whether Amy Robsart ever
was at Kenilworth, and at any rate, it doesn't seem at all likely that
she was here at the time of Queen Elizabeth's famous visit of 1563."

"O dear!" Betty sighed, really bitterly disappointed. "I always liked
the part about Amy best of all, and now it isn't true at all!"

"Never mind, Miss; there would be plenty of interest attached to the
old place, even if Scott had never written of it. Oh, I know it's a
great book, and makes that particular period of Kenilworth's history
remarkably vivid. What I mean is, that the old castle is not dependent
on Scott for its grand history and reputation." He looked above him at
the beautiful oriel-windows of the Banqueting-hall, as if he loved
every stone there. After a few such speeches, even the children began
to notice that he was "different from most guides"; he used most
excellent English, was very neatly dressed, had a pleasant, refined
face, and seemed to take an especial interest in the youn