Herbert.

"Yes; that is just the truth," was the eager response through my hand,
"and it is so sad to think that my own descendants are the ones to keep
me imprisoned in this way. I am told that I could progress, as they call
it here, and be much happier if I could only forget Greba, even for a
time. And it worries me to see things done so differently and not to be
able to do anything myself for the old place. There is no happiness for
me here. Do ask them to set me free," he continued rather pathetically.

"But they don't _want_ to hold you down," I answered. "Tell me how they
do it and what you wish them to do."

The old man then explained the position very carefully and sensibly. He
admitted that his own deep love for his old property and surroundings
and his failure in life to develop any other very deep affection, was
chiefly in fault, but he added, that his portrait being hung there, in
the hall of his descendants, was also very unfortunate for him.

"It drags me down--I don't know why--but I am sure I could get away more
easily if they would not keep that picture in the old hall."

A few more practical questions elicited the following instructions:--He
said the picture might remain in the _county_, so long as it was not in
any house owned by a _Lyon_ (there were several members of the family in
Warwickshire); or it might be sent to London or elsewhere, and kept by
members of the Lyon family, so long as they were not in the direct
descent, and _did not live in his old county_.

We drove over to Greba that afternoon, and took the "message" with us,
knowing there was no fear of encountering the gibes of my fox-hunting
friend at three P.M. on any week day in the hunting season.

Mrs Lyon was extremely interested; she not only endorsed the _Richard
Lyon_ and his dates, but told us that he had done an immense deal for
the property, as her husband had often impressed upon her, and that at
his death, about one hundred and thirty years before, he had lain in
state for three days in the very hall where we had taken our tea, and
where his picture now hung. This was great encouragement, so we put our
heads together, wondering _how_ the poor old man's entreaty might be
complied with.

Mrs Lyon remembered that several of the old portraits were shortly to be
sent to a picture dealer in the neighbouring town (some ten miles away)
to be cleaned, but this special picture was not in need of restoration,
unfortunately.

"S