ment. He is buried
in St. Margaret's Church, beside Westminster Abbey, you know."

"Was there a real palace in the Tower?" inquired Betty, while they
retraced their steps under the Bloody Tower and back toward the
entrance. "Isn't there any of it remaining?"

"Yes, there was a palace here once, for royalty lived in the Tower
through the reign of James I. No part of it now exists, however. It
stood over beyond the White Tower, in a part which visitors are not
now allowed to see."

On a hill just outside the Tower, in the center of a large, barren
square, is a little inclosed park with trees and shrubbery. Here stood
the scaffold where almost all of the executions were held. The place
is now green and fruitful, but it is said that on the site of the
scaffold within the Tower, grass cannot be made to grow.

As they walked toward a station of the "Tube," an underground railway,
John suddenly heaved a great sigh of relief and exclaimed:

"Well, I tell you what! I've learned heaps, but I don't want to hear
anything more about executions for a few days! What do you all say?"

CHAPTER SIX

ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL AND ITS VICINITY

When Betty came down to her breakfast the following morning, she found
her plate heaped with letters and fascinating little parcels of
different shapes. For a moment she looked puzzled, then she exclaimed:

"Oh! I know! It's my birthday, and I'm having such a splendid time
sight-seeing, that I had forgotten all about it! How lovely!" as she
glanced again at the presents.

"See, John!" she cried, opening the first package, which had an
American postmark, "see what mother has sent me! It is such a pretty
tan leather cover, with little handles, to put on my Baedeker. You
know I always carry the guidebook, and read about things for Mrs.
Pitt. Now, I can keep the book clean, and besides, people can't
recognize me as an American just from seeing my red book! That's a
fine idea, I think!"

John thought that his sister was not opening the bundles quite fast
enough, so he pounced upon one and unwrapped it for her.

"This long thing is father's gift, Betty. It's an umbrella, of course,
and a fine one! Here's a card which says, 'Knowing that two umbrellas
could never be amiss in England, I send this.' Do you suppose he
guessed that you'd lost yours?"

After the bundles were all opened, the letters hurriedly devoured, and
Betty had at last settled down to eating her cold breakfast, Mrs. Pitt