"My great-grandmother."
"Tell me about her," said Charles, lighting a new cigar and leaning back luxuriously on the seat.
The seat was under a chestnut tree, before them lay a little wilderness, sunflowers unburst from the bud, stocks, and clove pinks.
In its centre stood a moss-grown sun-dial bearing this old dial inscription in Latin, "The hours pass and are numbered." From this wilderness of a garden came the drone of bees, a dreamy sound that seemed to refute the motto upon the dial.
"She lived," said Fanny, "a hundred, or maybe two hundred, years ago; anyhow it was in the time of the Regency—and I wish to goodness I had lived then."
"Why?"
"Oh, it must have been such fun."
"How do you know about the time of the Regency?"
"I have read about it in the library, there are a lot of old books about it, and one of them is in handwriting, not in print. You know in those times the Lamberts lived here at 'The Laurels,' just as we do, that's what makes the house so old; and the Prince Regent used to drive up here in a carriage and pair of coal-black horses. He was in love with Mrs Lambert, and she was in love with him. I don't wonder at her."