"The monks who afterwards lived in it. It was an abbey till Harry the Eighth, of gracious memory, turned them out and gave it to one of my forefathers." "What did he do that for?" "Well, I know not for certain. Some say one thing, and some another, but he gave it to one of our forebears, and for that I bless his memory." "But he was cruel, and killed his wives." "Some of them; yet I doubt not they deserved it." And then, pointing to two niches or small alcoves high up in the outer wall, and only some ten feet or so below the parapet, "See, Cecily--there is one of the builders of the abbey, Abbot Swincow." "That figure in the cowl?" "Yes; and 'tis said he keeps guard over the place to this day, though he has been dead these hundreds of years." "And is it true?" asked the little girl, turning a look of semi-wonderment and awe on her companion. "Nay, I know not, save that no harm has befallen the place, or us who live in it, since I can remember." "Then it _is_ true, I make no doubt," said the easily convinced child. "But who stands in the other little hole?" "No one now. I have heard father say that there was a figure of a Father Anthony once, but that stem of ivy you see crept up, and, getting into the joints of the stone at the base, loosened them, and in a storm one night it was blown down and broken to pieces." "And did they never stick the poor man together again?" "Never. His head now rests beside the fountain basin in the lower garden, and bits of his body and legs are in a heap against yon wall." "Poor man, poor man! and the ivy is taking his place: one spray is growing right across the opening where he stood." "I've oft thought I should like to climb up and get in the niche and see what the garden and park look like from there, but the ivy is not strong enough." "Oh, no, no, Hugh--you must not! You'd be killed; and then what should I do?" And in her eagerness Cecily clasped her cousin's arm. "Nay, I don't think I shall," replied Hugh, laughing. "I have no hankering for a broken neck; and, besides, you could not come with me, and it would be no sport alone." "No, don't go. It must be much nicer down here than being like that poor broken man was up there." "Well, Cecily, I don't feel much like an image just now, for there's the horn for dinner, and I'm hungry. Let us go." And scrambling to their feet the two happy children raced across the grass to the house, and left Abbot Swincow and the empty niche bathed in the midday sunshine. (_To be continued._) ABOUT PEGGY SAVILLE. BY JESSIE MANSERGH (Mrs. G. de Horne Vaizey), Author of "A Girl in Springtime," "Sisters Three," etc. CHAPTER V. In the explanations that followed, no one showed a livelier interest than Peggy herself. She was in her element answering the questions which were showered upon her, and took an artistic pleasure in the success of her plot.