There is a hush upon Chesney Wold in these altered days, as thereis upon a portion of the family history. The story goes that SirLeicester paid some who could have spoken out to hold their peace;but it is a lame story, feebly whispering and creeping about, andany brighter spark of life it shows soon dies away. It is knownfor certain that the handsome Lady Dedlock lies in the mausoleum inthe park, where the trees arch darkly overhead, and the owl isheard at night making the woods ring; but whence she was broughthome to be laid among the echoes of that solitary place, or how shedied, is all mystery. Some of her old friends, principally to befound among the peachy-cheeked charmers with the skeleton throats,did once occasionally say, as they toyed in a ghastly manner withlarge fans--like charmers reduced to flirting with grim death,after losing all their other beaux--did once occasionally say, whenthe world assembled together, that they wondered the ashes of theDedlocks, entombed in the mausoleum, never rose against theprofanation of her company. But the dead-and-gone Dedlocks take itvery calmly and have never been known to object.

　　Up from among the fern in the hollow, and winding by the bridle-road among the trees, comes sometimes to this lonely spot the soundof horses' hoofs. Then may be seen Sir Leicester--invalided, bent,and almost blind, but of worthy presence yet--riding with astalwart man beside him, constant to his bridle-rein. When theycome to a certain spot before the mausoleum-door, Sir Leicester'saccustomed horse stops of his own accord, and Sir Leicester,pulling off his hat, is still for a few moments before they rideaway.

　　War rages yet with the audacious Boythorn, though at uncertainintervals, and now hotly, and now coolly, flickering like anunsteady fire. The truth is said to be that when Sir Leicestercame down to Lincolnshire for good, Mr. Boythorn showed a manifestdesire to abandon his right of way and do whatever Sir Leicesterwould, which Sir Leicester, conceiving to be a condescension to hisillness or misfortune, took in such high dudgeon, and was somagnificently aggrieved by, that Mr. Boythorn found himself underthe necessity of committing a flagrant trespass to restore hisneighbour to himself. Similarly, Mr. Boythorn continues to posttremendous placards on the disputed thoroughfare and (with his birdupon his head) to hold forth vehemently against Sir Leicester inthe sanctuary of his own home; similarly, also, he defies him as ofold in the little church by testifying a bland unconsciousness ofhis existence. But it is whispered that when he is most ferocioustowards his old foe, he is really most considerate, and that SirLeicester, in the dignity of being implacable, little supposes howmuch he is humoured. As little does he think how near together heand his antagonist have suffered in the fortunes of two sisters,and his antagonist, who knows it now, is not the man to tell him.

　　So the quarrel goes on to the satisfaction of both.

　　In one of the lodges of the park--that lodge within sight of thehouse where, once upon a time, when the waters were out down inLincolnshire, my Lady used to see the keeper's child--the stalwartman, the trooper formerly, is housed. Some relics of his oldcalling hang upon the walls, and these it is the chosen recreationof a little lame man about the stable-yard to keep gleaming bright.

　　A busy little man he always is, in the polishing at harness-housedoors, of stirrup-irons, bits, curb-chains, harness bosses,anything in the way of a stable-yard that will take a polish,leading a life of friction. A shaggy little damaged man, withal,not unlike an old dog of some mongrel breed, who has beenconsiderably knocked about. He answers to the name of Phil.

　　A goodly sight it is to see the grand old housekeeper (harder ofhearing now) going to church on the arm of her son and to observe--which few do, for the house is scant of company in these times--therelations of both towards Sir Leicester, and his towards them.

　　They have visitors in the high summer weather, when a grey cloakand umbrella, unknown to Chesney Wold at other periods, are seenamong the leaves; when two young ladies are occasionally foundgambolling in sequestered saw-pits and such nooks of the park; andwhen the smoke of two pipes wreathes away into the fragrant eveningair from the trooper's door. Then is a fife heard trolling withinthe lodge on the inspiring topic of the "British Grenadiers"; andas the evening closes in, a gruff inflexible voice is heard to say,while two men pace together up and down, "But I never own to itbefore the old girl. Discipline must be maintained."The greater part of the house is shut up, and it is a show-house nolonger; yet Sir Leicester holds his shrunken state in the longdrawing-room for all that, and reposes in his o............