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MIRANDA;

A MIDSUMMER MADNESS.

CHAPTER I.

HER GRANDFATHER AND GRANDMOTHER.

"Most learned scion of unlearned race,

Revered far more than parson or than squire ;

He lived a century in his native place,

A strange old village in a strange old shire."

WHOSO makes pilgrimage to the quaint village of Rothescamp-in-the-Valley, will find much to reward him. There is the churchan abbey church originally-with a massive square tower, inhabited by jackdaws innumerable, and the most daring of flying buttresses, and one of the finest peals of bells in the kingdom. The story is, that when those bells were being cast, Guy de Rothescamp, just returned from the Crusades, threw into the

VOL. I.

A

molten mass all his gold and silver plate. As evidence hereof is engraven on the tenor bell

E Solyma laurum nunc Fristo aurum.

Then there is the beautiful rivulet Rothe, always full and free and clear, always containing trout innumerable. Then there is the famous old inn and posting-house, the Tachbrook Arms; for the Rothescamps have long perished from the land, and their estates and lordships have passed to the Tachbrooks, whose house, at Rothescamp-on-the-Hill, is a famous show-place. Rothescamp-on-the-Hill is five miles away, up over the downs, by a white chalky road, which bears the inappropriate name of Long River. The great house stands almost alone, only a few cottages clustering around its lofty outer walls; and it is a long time now since any Tachbrook has dwelt there. The last baronet was killed in a duel; the present baronet is commonly reported to be in a lunatic asylum. The old house is kept in order by a few staid old servants. The estate is sagaciously administered by a trusty old steward; but no Tachbrook,

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