Romans--or Greeks, I don't know which--used to say the man was happy who
had no history. I am sure we should have been happier, lately, if we
had not had any."

"`Don't know which!' What a heedless Magot!"

"Why, fair Aunt, surely you don't expect people to recollect lessons.
Did you ever remember yours?"

Marjory laughed. "Sufficiently so, I hope, to know the difference
between Greeks and Romans. But, however,--for the last three years.
Tell me all about them."

"Am I to begin with the Flood, like a professional chronicler?"

"Well, no. I think the Conquest would be soon enough."

"Delicious Aunt Marjory! How many weary centuries you excuse me!"

"_How_ many, Magot?"

"Oh, please don't! How can I possibly tell? If you really want to
know, I will send for Father Nicholas."

Marjory laughed, and kissed the lively face turned up to her.

"Idle Magot! Well, go on."

"I don't think I am idle, fair Aunt. But I do detest learning dates.--
Well, now,--was it in April you left us? I know it was very soon after
my Lady of Cornwall was married, but I do not remember exactly what
month."

"It was in May," said Marjory, shortly.

"May, was it? Oh, I know! It was the eve of Saint Helen's Day. Well,
things went on right enough, till my Lord of Canterbury took it into his
head that my Lord and father had no business to detain Tunbridge
Castle,--it all began with that. It was about July, I think."

"I thought Tunbridge Castle belonged to my Lord of Gloucester. What had
either to do with it?"

"O Aunt Marjory! Have you forgotten that my young Lord of Gloucester is
in ward to my Lord and father? The Lord King gave him first to my Lord
the Bishop of Winchester, when his father died; and then, about a year
after, he took him away from the Bishop, and gave him to my fair father.
Don't you remember him?--such a pretty boy! I think you knew all about
it at the time."

"Very likely I did, Magot. One forgets things, sometimes."

And Margaret, looking up into the fair face, saw, and did not
understand, the hidden pain behind the smile.

"So my Lord of Canterbury complained of my fair father to the Lord King.
(I wonder he could not attend to his own business.) But the Lord King
said that as my Lord of Gloucester held in chief of the Crown, all
vacant trusts were his, to give as it pleased him. And then--Aunt
Marjory, do you like priests?"

"Magot, what a question!"

"But do you?"

"All priests are