ow connections of his in a
Sussex farmhouse. Besides, he couldn't possibly have seen them for more
than fifteen years.

"That is true, and I only saw them once, even then," he admitted. "But
Mrs. Tupper had been here for a good many years, engaged in the most
delightful work, which you will hear about by and by; and I'm sure she
is here still, and will be for many more years to come, because I don't
want to imagine the place without her."

Mrs. Norton said no more, and her brother knocked on the door of the
farmhouse, which stood hospitably open. In a minute, a dear old
white-haired lady appeared, and instantly her face lighted up.

"Why, if it isn't Mr. Pendragon--I mean Sir Lionel--come back to see us
again!" said she.

Sir Lionel grew red with pleasure, at being remembered by her, for
apparently he hadn't at all expected it. He seems to forget that he is a
celebrity, and generally doesn't like being reminded of the fact, but he
was pleased that Mrs. Tupper had read about him in the papers from time
to time, and had never forgotten his face.

She said she would be delighted to provide us with lunch, if we didn't
mind a simple one; and then she would have gone on to say something
which would have given the "surprise" away, if Sir Lionel hadn't stopped
her.

We had delicious country things to eat, with real Surrey cream and apple
dumplings. They did taste good after the elaborate French cooking in
London, by way of contrast! Then, when we had finished, Sir Lionel said,
"Now, Mrs. Tupper, can you take us for a stroll round the farm?"

That didn't sound exciting, did it? We walked out, and it seemed a very
nice farm, but nothing remarkable. As we wandered toward some sheds, in
a field of mangolds, Sir Lionel made us look up at a big hill, and said,
"There was a Roman camp there. If you'd stood where you stand now, on a
quiet night in those times, you could have heard the clanking of armour
or the soldiers quarrelling over their dice. Here Roman Stane Street
ran, and chariots used to stop to bring the latest news from Rome to the
owner of the villa."

"Was there a villa?" asked Mrs. Norton, who thinks it polite to ask her
brother questions, whether she is interested or not.

"Let's take a look into this shed," said he, by way of answer. And,
there, protected by that rough roof, was a great stretch of splendid
mosaic pavement. It was done in circular compartments of ornamentation,
and in one was a beautiful head