"I beg your pardon?" My sister repeated the appellative. Instantly her husband assumed an attitude of listening ecstasy. "Hark!" he exclaimed dramatically. "I he-ear my lo-ove calling." A rapturous smile swept into his face. "It must be clo-osing time." He changed his tone to one of indicative solicitude. "More to the left, sweet chuck. No. That's the water-trough. I've got the pram here." A master of pantomime, Berry can create an atmosphere with a look and a word. 'On the halls,' he would probably be a complete failure. On the terrace beneath the walls of St. Bertrand he was simply side-splitting. Daphne and Jonah included, we collapsed tearfully.... As we did so there was a roar of laughter behind us. One and all, we turned blindly about, to see a slim figure in a grey tweed suit dash for the gateway. As we looked, a grey hat flew off. The next moment its owner was within the walls. I ran to the gateway and stared up a little paved street. It was quite empty. After a moment I returned to pick up the hat. Looking at this, I saw that it came from Bond Street. What was more remarkable was that twenty paces away was standing a grey two-seater. It was quite evident that, for car and passenger to approach without our knowledge, we must have been extremely preoccupied, and the new-comer's engine uncannily silent. After some discussion of the incident, we placed the hat in the two-seater and proceeded to lunch.... The meal was over, and Jonah and I were washing the glasses, when-- "Now, no guide-books, please," said my brother-in-law. "I've read it all up. Where we are now was the _ulularium_." "Whatever's that?" said Jill. "The howling-green," said Berry. "The monks used to come and howl here before breakfast." "What did they howl for?" said Adèle. "It was a form," was the reply, "of mortification, instituted by Aitchless the 'Alf-baked and encouraged by his successor, who presented an empty but still fragrant beer-barrel to be howled for upon Michaelmas Eve." After the manner of a guide, the speaker preceded us to the gateway. "And now we come to the gate. Originally one-half its present width, it was widened by the orders of Gilbert the Gluttonous. The work, in which he took the deepest interest, was carried out under his close supervision. Indeed, it was not until the demolition of the structure had been commenced that he was able to be released from a position which was embarrassing not only his digestion, but his peace of mind, inasmuch as it was denying ingress to a cardinal who had much influence at the Vatican and was wearing tight boots." The steep, narrow street was walled by great houses of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, while at the top a little archway buttressed a mansion of obvious importance.