CHAPTER XXIII
AT supper that evening Doctor Chord amplified some of his views "A few staunch retainers could quickly aid you to scale the walls of the castle," said he. "But I have forgotten," he added blankly. "'T is not a castle. 'T is a house."
"If you would take some of these ancient ideas and bury them in the garden," said I, "they might grow in time to be some kind of turnip or other valuable food. But at the present moment they do not seem to me to serve much purpose. Supposing that the house is not a castle? What of that?"
"Castles" said he. "Castles lend themselves"
"Castles!" I cried. "Have done with castles! All castles may be Jews, as you say. But this is a house."
"I remarked that it was a house," he answered gently. " It was that point that I was making."
"Very good," said I. "We will now proceed to define matters. Do you know if Lady Mary walks in the garden? It is absolutely necessary that Lady Mary should walk in the garden."
"She does," he replied at once. "At this season of the year Lady Mary walks in the garden on every fine day at ten of the clock."
"Then," I cried, smiting the table, "our course is clear; I feel elate. My only regret is that my father
