Jane Lady Burdon, though she has been dead these four years, is always "my lady" to Mr. Amber, as Roly remains to him "my lord" or "my young lord." Aunt Maggie, standing a little aside, looking at Percival, replies in her quiet voice: "I know--I remember. They are not so foolish--traditions--as some people think, Mr. Amber." He nods his head in very weighty agreement, then turns again to Percival who, gazing round, discovers a new amazement. "But _two_ fireplaces!" Percival cries. "Big as a small room, too, aren't they?" says Mr. Amber, important and gratified again. "Now, look at that! There's another story for you!" He leads Percival to one vast hearth, high over which the Burdon arms are carved in oak. "See those letters around there? That's our motto. That's the Burdon motto: 'I hold!' That was the message a Burdon sent to the king's troops when Cromwell's men--another wicked man, Cromwell--were trying to get in. 'I hold!' he told his messenger to say--just that, 'I hold!' and afterwards, when Cromwell was dead and another king came back, the king changed the Burdon motto to that. 'I hold!' Fine? Eh?" "I hold!" breathes Percival, mightily impressed. "Why, I tell you--I tell you," cries Mr. Amber, "there's a story in every inch of this house. Better stories than all your picture books. I'll just tell Mrs. Ferris about tea and then we'll go round. I know all the stories; no one knows them like I do." And he toddles off to Mrs. Ferris, absorbed in his lore and congratulating himself upon it, and Aunt Maggie and Percival are left alone. It is then that Percival enjoys his second right of that day. Aunt Maggie calls him to her. "Put on your cap again a minute, Percival--just for a minute." "Oh, but I mustn't, Aunt Maggie." She takes the cap from his hand and holds it above his clustering curls. He protests. "Mr. Amber said so, you know." "What did he say, dear?" "Only Burdons, Aunt Maggie." She placed the cap on his head and took his face between her hands and kissed him. She looked up, and all about the hall, and high to where, around the gallery, portraits of bygone Burdons looked steadily down upon her; and her lips moved as if she spoke some message that she signalled with her eyes. "Whoever are you talking to, Aunt Maggie?" She put her hands on his shoulders as he stood sturdily there, the jolly red fisher cap on the back of his head, a puzzled expression in his face, and she held him a pace from her. "Say the motto, Percival, dear--the Burdon motto. Do you remember it? Say it while you have your cap on--out loud!" "Is it a game, Aunt Maggie?" "Say it quickly, dear--out loud!" "I hold!" says Percival, clear and sharp. In the gallery behind him there was a sound of movement. He turned quickly and saw a man's figure step hastily away. "Some one was watching us, Aunt Maggie." But Aunt Maggie was gone into her "thinking." IV