ted in
the objects which had been excavated from the prehistoric lake dwellings
in the neighborhood, and spent so much time poring over bronze brooches,
horn weaving-combs, flint scrapers, glass rings, and fragments of
decorated pottery that Sheila lost all patience.

"Is Dad going to spend the whole day in this moldy old museum?" she
asked dramatically. "I hate anything B. C.! What does it matter to us
how people lived in pile dwellings in the middle of a lake? To judge
from those fancy pictures of them on the wall there they must have been
a set of uncouth savages. Why can't we drive on to Dawlish, or some
other decent seaside place, instead of poking about in musty cathedrals
and tiresome museums? I'm fed up!"

"Now, Sheila, don't be naughty!" whispered her mother. "I'm only too
glad to see your father take an interest in anything. I believe he's
enjoying this tour. If you're tired of the museum, go out and look at
the shops until we're ready."

"There aren't any worth looking at in a wretched little country town!"
yawned Sheila. "No, I really don't want to go over the Abbey either,
thanks! I shall sit inside the car and write, while you do the
sight-seeing."

Major Rogers never hurried himself to suit his daughter's whims, so
Sheila was left to sit in the car, addressing tragic letters and picture
post cards to her friends, and the rest of the party finished examining
the museum, and went to view the ruins of the famous Abbey.

"If Sheila prefers to stay outside, she can look after the car," said
her father, "and I shall take Johnson in with us. He's an intelligent
fellow, and I'm sure he appreciates the shows. It's rather hard on him
if he never gets the chance to see anything."

"I believe he goes sight-seeing on his own account when he has the
opportunity," replied Mrs. Rogers, "but bring him in, by all means. He
always strikes me as having very refined tastes. I should think he's
trying to educate himself. But he's so reserved, I never can get
anything out of him."

"He seems fond of books," volunteered Carmel. "He reads all the time
when he's waiting for us in the car."

Johnson accepted with alacrity the invitation to view the Abbey, and
walked round the ruins apparently much interested in what he saw,
though, following his usual custom, he spoke seldom, and then only in
brief reply to questions. Once, when Major and Mrs. Rogers were puzzling
over a Latin inscription, he seemed on the point of making