it as a bit of mediæval England. On all sides of me were ancient half-timbered houses with high gables and quaintly ornamented fronts; above them, at one end of the square, rose the tall square tower of a church; fronting it, at the other end, was what I took to be an old Moot Hall. But for the gas-lamps which twinkled here and there, and for the signs and names above the shops, I should have thought myself thrown back to Tudor times.
The hall-porter came out as I stood there, looked up at the sky, and remarked that we should have a fine day to-morrow, and that good weather was desirable, for people were beginning to go about.
"You get tourists here, I suppose?" said I.
"No end of 'em, sir," he answered. "Deal of Americans come here—they like that sort of thing"—waving his hand towards the old houses opposite. "Nothing of that sort in their country, I understand, sir. Oh, yes, full of tourists all the summer months, sir."
"But you don't remember all their faces, do you?" I suggested.
