ne smiling, declaring that the story was an absolutely faithful
page of history, as he had good reason to know, his own people having
been engaged in that well-known scrimmage. He asked if the Colonel had
ever heard the equally well-authenticated, though less martial tale of a
certain Lady Penelope, who lived in the same century, and not a score of
miles from the same place?

The Colonel had not heard it, nor had anybody except the local historian;
and the inquirer was induced to proceed forthwith.

DAME THE EIGHTH--THE LADY PENELOPE
By the Man of Family

In going out of Casterbridge by the low-lying road which eventually
conducts to the town of Ivell, you see on the right hand an ivied manor-
house, flanked by battlemented towers, and more than usually
distinguished by the size of its many mullioned windows. Though still of
good capacity, the building is much reduced from its original grand
proportions; it has, moreover, been shorn of the fair estate which once
appertained to its lord, with the exception of a few acres of park-land
immediately around the mansion. This was formerly the seat of the
ancient and knightly family of the Drenghards, or Drenkhards, now extinct
in the male line, whose name, according to the local chronicles, was
interpreted to mean _Strenuus Miles_, _vel Potator_, though certain
members of the family were averse to the latter signification, and a duel
was fought by one of them on that account, as is well known. With this,
however, we are not now concerned.

In the early part of the reign of the first King James, there was
visiting near this place of the Drenghards a lady of noble family and
extraordinary beauty. She was of the purest descent; ah, there's seldom
such blood nowadays as hers! She possessed no great wealth, it was said,
but was sufficiently endowed. Her beauty was so perfect, and her manner
so entrancing, that suitors seemed to spring out of the ground wherever
she went, a sufficient cause of anxiety to the Countess her mother, her
only living parent. Of these there were three in particular, whom
neither her mother's complaints of prematurity, nor the ready raillery of
the maiden herself, could effectually put off. The said gallants were a
certain Sir John Gale, a Sir William Hervy, and the well-known Sir George
Drenghard, one of the Drenghard family before-mentioned. They had,
curiously enough, all been equally honoured with the distinction of
knighthood, and