“I won’t. I promise,” Betty said, laughing, for she was getting quite used to Godmother, and was no longer afraid of her. “Very well, then. Now you’re ready to look at the picture. Come along.” Betty followed her down a corridor till she stopped before one of several pictures hung in a line. It represented a group of wild-looking men standing beneath the walls of a city which Betty at once saw was meant to represent the London or Londinium of the Romans. “You must imagine that the scene shown by this picture, is about a hundred years after the Romans had gone,” said Godmother. “Those great strong men looking up at London Wall are our forefathers, the English. Awful things have been happening for the past hundred years; terrible fighting between these invaders and the British, who by now are being everywhere defeated and driven farther and farther west. The Englishmen in the picture, have come suddenly into sight of a walled city that looks dangerous to approach. They are hesitating. One of them is blowing his horn to see whether any defenders will appear upon the battlements. No answer comes to the loud blast, and the warriors will presently rush at that gate, batter it down and enter. To their amazement they will find within, beautiful houses such as they have never seen or imagined. But all of them are empty and dropping into decay. They will see the ruined gardens and orchards of buildings the use of which they can’t even guess. For many, many years London has lain deserted, because on account of the fighting in the country all round, no food could reach it, and all its people have fled. Wondering and afraid, believing, no doubt, all these decaying remains of luxury to be some magic device of demons, those rough warriors will hurry away from the silent city, leaving it to fall into still deeper ruin.” “Poor London!” said Betty. “But how did it ever wake up again?” “It had to wait till the worst of the fighting was over before it was occupied again—this time by a different race—the _English_ race. Then London once more came to life. But by this time probably nearly the whole of the _Roman_ buildings had disappeared, and become buried under the first rough _English_ houses where the new race of men lived who once more made the city into a thriving port.” “And these English people forgot all about the Romans, I suppose?” “They never knew them, you see. Even the few British who were left (the descendants of those who had lived under Roman rule), only had legends about them. They used the great roads the Romans had made, but they called them by new names—_English_ names. Watling Street, for instance, was the name they gave to the great Roman road that led northwards out of London. It is now partly Oxford Street and partly Edgware Road. Roman London disappeared as though it had never been, till bits of it, ages later, were, and are, being dug up.” “Then didn’t the Romans ever have anything to do with the English at all?”