would have tendered their resignation
without a moment's hesitation.

The first visitors who arrived were Mrs.
and Miss Gushington, an enthusiastic widow
with her more enthusiastic daughter. They
were in raptures with the castle, as I fully
expected, and I was very glad of it, as it was
a good example to set the servants.

"What a dear, delightful, duck of a place!"
almost shouted Mrs. Gushington before the
first salutations were over.

"And so old, mama," interposed the
daughter.

"Yes, my dear," returned the mother, "so
very old. Where did your respected husband
pick up such a dear, quaint, feudal
relic, Mrs. Coggleshall?"

"It was left us as a legacy," I replied.

"O, how charming!" returned Mrs.
Gushington, with enthusiasm; "how very
charming—so unexpected!"

"Don't you like the middle ages?" asked
Miss Gushington, in a tone very similar to
her mother.

"Not much," I answered.

"O, I do!" returned the young lady, in a
most rapturous manner. "I think they were
so nice!"

"Do you know, Mrs. Coggleshall," said
Mrs. Gushington, "what I should call this
place if it were mine?"

"Something very pretty, I'm sure, dear," I
returned with politeness.

"The Moated Grange! after Tennyson's
poem, you know?"

"Very happy, indeed, mama," replied the
daughter.

Unfortunately many of our guests were not
disposed to exchange the comforts of modern
civilisation for the barbarity of the middle
ages, without an unamiable struggle. Such
were old Mr. Crowcomb and his wife. They
had got the best apartment in the castle—
stony, of course,—that could not be helped;
but a room fit for a king and queen—in
the middle ages.

They did not complain direct to me or
Mr. Coggleshall; but Mrs. Crowcomb's maid
made frequent application for impossible
things in the kitchen. Our servants in
their present temper took care to convey
this to me, as a hint of their own deplorable
condition.

A communication was opened with the
neighbouring village (four miles distant)
for the purpose of victualling the garrison.
Considering the extent and the unusual
character of the demand, we were tolerably
well served; and it was amusing to
see the old warder going through all the
forms of challenging the butcher's boy in his
cart on the other side of the moat, as if he
had been an invading army. When he
came for orders, to save the trouble of
letting down the old, cranky drawbridge,
they were shouted through a speaking-trumpet
thrust through a slit of a window.

The first serious difficulty that I experienced
in the victualling department was
with the cook, who could find nothing in the
shape of kitchen utensils with which she felt
disposed to risk her professional reputation
before company.

"It's all very well, mim," she said, " for
born savidges, which was content to eat their
meat raw from the points of dadgers, but it
won't suit my books."

I presume that she alluded to the manners
and customs of the middle-age barons at
their repasts; though I did not enquire
further. To get over the difficulty, without
more discussion, I took her to the armoury,
and made a selection of helmets, breast-
plates, and a variety of odd metallic things
that I knew nothing about, sufficient to set
up a cook in business at a public club-house.
I knew I was committing sacrilege; but what
could I do?

The moat was one of the most obtrusive
nuisances that we had to deal with. It was,
in parts, half-full of a green, slimy mud, and
we had not been in the castle many hours
before we became painfully aware of its
existence.

There was no concealing the fact, nor
doubting the cause, and the old warder,
being the only living link that bound us to
the past, was summoned to render an
explanation, and suggest a remedy.

"Well, sir," he said, "I remember the old;
moat loike that for more nor fifty year."

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Coggleshall,
interrupting him, "we want to know the
cause."

"Ah!" said the venerable adjunct of the
place, with a chuckle, "that's more nor you,
nor I can tell. It cum loike that about a
week a'ter old Sir Cleaves died, an' they do
say—"

This was sufficient for my husband, who
had a special dislike of the old warder's
legends, and he dismissed the aged servant
without further questioning. The next day
we sent to the town for a surveyor—a
person not easily found in those parts— and
his report (which cost us fifty pounds), could
only tell us that, in former times, the moat
was supplied with water from a spring; that
this spring had dried up from natural causes;
that there were no means at hand for abating
the nuisance except by boring for water to
flush the moat, or by clearing out the mud
altogether. We adopted neither of these
expensive suggestions; but temporarily kept
off the enemy by a liberal application of
chloride of lime.

We had great trouble with our only
child, Alexander, aged nine years, who was
home for his holidays. He made a
companion of little Waddles, our fat page,
and together they scaled such giddy heights
upon the tower-battlements, that it made
everybody's heart sick to see them. When
this amusement was denied to them, and