“A sham castle,” said Usk. “And I don’t think you would care to live in it.” “Oh, I’d have plate-glass windows, and electricity everywhere, of course. And inside! Why, your mother has the rooms so bare, they feel to me ’most indecent. When I fix up the picture-gallery, you’ll see it’ll be just elegant. All those musty old pictures and horrid suits of armour and swords and things will take a back seat. Now you feel like looking at them because there’s nothing else to see, but when I’ve inaugurated my reforms, one of them will just be on hand here and there as a surprise.” “And how do you intend to dispose of them, then?” “Why, instead of that horrid old dull tapestry and black panelling, I’ll have silk hangings in pastel shades, each room a different colour. I’ll have them weave them on purpose for me in France. And all those cute little recesses in the gallery I’ll turn into cosy nooks, with French furniture and nicknacks and Japanese things, and now and then a suit of armour that’ll just give you the coldest kind of a shudder. And some of the pictures can be cleaned, and the rest be hidden back of the hangings. It’ll be too cunning for anything.” “Rather!” said Usk, with a short laugh. “I am only delighted to think that my father and mother will probably be supreme here for twenty or thirty years yet, happily, and that by that time you’ll have learnt to be so fond of the Castle that you won’t want to lay a finger on it.” “Now that’s real horrid of you!” said Félicia angrily. “I don’t see but Lord and Lady Caerleon would very well leave the Castle to us, and go and live some other place. I don’t choose to board, especially with your folks. I want a house of my own, so’s I can stamp my individuality upon it.” “That you can have in London. There’s no likelihood whatever of my parents giving up the Castle to us, I am thankful to say. Why should they?” “Why, because they’ve had it ever so long,” cried Félicia. “I shall want to have house-parties here, when we’re not in town. Say, Usk! I’ll restore the Abbey, and we’ll have that for our country-house.” “The Abbey!” Usk was aghast. “Do you know that all our family are buried there?” “Oh, we’ll soon fix them up somewhere else. Why, I’ll have just the loveliest sort of house-parties, not like any other person’s. We’ll call them ‘retreats,’ and I’ll design a cunning little nun’s dress for every one to wear. The papers will just gloat over it, and all of the smart set will be fighting for invitations.” “I don’t like jokes of this kind,” said Usk, with forced calmness. “Of course, when you are mistress of the Castle, you can alter the arrangements as you please, provided you don’t destroy or make away with the old things, but I give you fair warning that you won’t touch a single stone of the walls, or do anything to desecrate the Abbey.”