My old grandmother took possession quietly and humbly enough. The morning after she came I found her looking out over the ruins with rather a forlorn expression on her gentle old face.
'Do you like the Castle?' I asked her.
'I don't know, my dear, I don't know. It looks an outlandish tumble-down kind of place. I never saw any like it.'
'This was the great gateway,' I said, with a child's eagerness to teach anybody a great deal older than himself. 'There used to be a draw-bridge here once.'
'Dear, dear!' said my grandmother not understanding the least, 'was there indeed?'
'And yonder's the keep. They kept all their stores in there, you know, grandmother.'
'Well, to be sure!'
'And the dungeons are underneath, where the prisoners used to be.'
'Lawk a' mercy, poor things!'
'And grandmother, you've heard of the Queen's Tower?'