Apostrophizing the monks in these terms, and evidently regretting that he had not lived himself in those good old times, the veteran led the way back through the rooms. On the return passage across “Freeze-your-Bones,” Magdalen preceded him. “She’s as straight as a poplar,” mumbled old Mazey to himself, hobbling along after his youthful companion, and wagging his venerable head in cordial approval. “I never was particular what nation they belonged to; but I always did like ‘em straight and fine grown, and I always shall like ‘em straight and fine grown, to my dying day.”
“Are there more rooms to see upstairs, on the second floor?” asked Magdalen, when they had returned to the point from which they had started.
The naturally clear, distinct tones of her voice had hitherto reached the old
