"Yes," went on Betty in her turn, "keeping to the left did seem queer at first. You know, John, how often we have wished that Dan and the automobile were over here. Honestly, I think Dan would surely have an accident! He never could remember to keep to the left! Now, we simply must go on with our letters! Begin when I say three! One--two--(hurry, John, you haven't dipped your pen!), three!" and both commenced to write industriously. The letters were finally finished just as the tea-bell rang. Betty ran to wash her hands, and then they went down to the library, where tea was served every afternoon that they were at home. "Why! I quite like tea over here!" Betty remarked. "I never drink it at home! Mother would be so surprised if she saw me! Do all English people drink it every afternoon as you do, Mrs. Pitt?" "Yes, it seems to go with the English people, somehow. We'd quite as soon think of doing without our breakfast or dinner as our four-o'clock-tea. You've noticed, my dear, how I always manage to get my tea at some little shop when we are on one of our sight-seeing tours. Really, I am quite lost without it! Oh! it's just a habit, of course." As she spoke, Mrs. Pitt poured herself another cup. When the tea things had been removed, and a fire was lighted, stories were called for. "Tell us some of the stories you know about different places and old customs, Mother," urged Barbara. "Very well," said Mrs. Pitt willingly. "Let--me--see! You remember, don't you, having the guide point out London Bridge to you, from the top of St. Paul's, day before yesterday? That's the oldest bridge, you know, for it seems to have existed as long ago as we know anything of London itself. But legend has it that before there was any bridge over the Thames, people crossed in a ferry which was run by a certain John Overs. This man naturally became rich, as very many people were always paying him for taking them across the river, but he was a great miser. The ferryman had one fair daughter about whom he was as miserly as he was with his money,--keeping her shut up out of reach of her lover. One day, John Overs thought he would like to save the cost of providing food for his household, so he pretended to be dead. He expected that his servants would fast in consequence, as was the ancient custom; but so great was their joy when they thought their master dead, that they all began to dance, to make merry together, and to feast upon all they found in the house. The old miser stood this just as long as he could, and then he sprang up to lay hands upon them. The servants fled, believing that it was something supernatural--all except one, who, more daring than the rest, killed his master with his weapon. So old John did die after all, but in an unexpected way.