Year: 1878

All Ashley said the house was haunted;
and as all Ashley said so, according to the
Ashley mind there could be no reasonable
doubt about the matter. Some few favored
individuals had seen the ghost, others be-
ieved they had seen it, and those who had
neither seen nor believed they had seen it,
implicitly believed those who had But the
excitement eliminated, and unbelieveis
were awed into silence, when the village
school-master and an itinerant preacher,
who had on Christmas Eve volunteered to
clay" it, returned after a few hours So
iourn in the old mansion, with pallid faces
and shaking limbs to the village inn, where
an expectant crowd awaited them. They
had seen it, and had ignominiously turned
their respective coat-tais and fled, The
house was haunted-there was no doubt
about that; it would not let; it wonld not
sell: and at length Mr.. Pompington's agent
grew tired of keeping it in tenantable re-
pair; SO the roof grew leaky, and its shat
tered easement stared vacantly across the
tangled lawn.


Yet it was as pretty place as ever l saw
1t was built in the Elizabethan style, with
richly carved gables and twisted stacks of
chimneys, on gentle activity rising from
winding river, and was backed by waving
woods and a range of hills, which looming
in dark blue outline in the distance, formed
fitting frame to a most lovely scene.


The house, or ''manor," as it was usually





out of place in the sunny landscape; it was
only on close inspection that its dilapida-
tions became visible; for it was built of small,
bright yellow and dutch-looking bricks, and
the grounds were kept in pretty good order.


Such was its aspect one Summer, when,
having decided to spend a fortnight's holiday
after the manner of rare old Izaak Walton,
| lodged at the "Three Trouts," the only
inn in the village Of Ashly. One day, when
the fish would not bite, I made sketch of
the manor. 1t had belonged to good fam
lily and l learned many particulars concern
ing them from garrulous old lady who
lived in a pretty little rustic cottage, not an
arrows flight from the forsaken Hall. She
was never tired of talking of the Langley,s
but her favorite topic was the handsome
face and manly virtues of its last representa-
tive.


''Ah. what brave boy" she would say,
'swas Master Percy! l see none like him
nowadays. But he would be soldier, like
all his race, for, mind you, the Langleys
were always a spirited, fighting family.
How merry and generous, and free-hearted
was the bonny lad! Ay, it was black day,
and l thought my heart would burst, when
the news came that he was dead-killed on
the field of battle. Oh, deary, deary! let
tiers came as said how bravely he'd fought,
and how he'd wished to be remembered to
his old nurse, and all at Ashley-but no
comfort And the rector preached a beau
tiful sermon about him, and there wasn't a
dry eve, warrant you, iii the church; and,
ah, there was the poor lassie, a lady bred
and born, as never looked up again, and as
God in His mercy took her reason FROM"
And the old dame would softly smooth the
ietty locks of careworn, vacant-looklng
lady, apparently of about thirty-five years
of age, who occupied a seat by her fireside.


Henrietta Selwyn, it appeared, had been
engaged to the gallant and unfortunate
Percy Langley, and had loved him with all
the earnestness and devotion of truthful
and affectionate nature. How did she bear
the news of his death? Whose was the
mournful duty to communicate to her the
fearful news? Alas the tale is sad one.
A domestic, with that strange desire to be
the first to announce bad news, rushed un-
thinkingly into the presence OF the gentle
girl and told her of his death. The sud
den shock turned her brain. Medical aid
and advice were sought in vain; the rose
fed from her cheeks which, a few weeks
before, had glowed with radiant health; the
sparkling eye grew dim; but, as the lamp
of reason all but flickered out the surging
sorrow in her breast grew calmer. and the
throbbing heart did not burst. A change OF
scene was suggested; visits to well-known
places which, in happier days, she had ad-
mired and loved to recall to memory; but
all was in vain; no sympathetic chord was