was not only an antiquely carved pew
called the "Truslow Pew," but also a tablet in the chancel bearing the
date 1593, which set forth the virtues of a certain John Truslow in the
following terms:--

"The body of John Truslow here doth rest,
Who, dying, did his soule to Heaven bequest.
The race he lived here on earth was threescore years and seven,
Deceased in Aprill, '93, and then was prest to Heaven.
His faith in Christ most steadfastly was set,
In 'sured Hope to satisfy His debt.
A lively Theme to take example by,
Condemning Deth in Hope a Saint to dye."

Notwithstanding this the people of Wavebury did not hold the memory of
the Truslows in much veneration; they had been "a bad lot," it was
rumoured, and the old manor-house, which still bore their name, was
looked on with suspicion as a place which had possibly witnessed many a
deed of darkness. But the days both of its wickedness and grandeur were
now over, and it stood in the fields with a forlorn and deserted air,
although its mullioned windows and panelled rooms and tall chimneys gave
it a look of decayed dignity. One wing of it, however, had completely
disappeared; at the back, which was near the road, it was hemmed in by
mean sheds and outbuildings, and the front was approached, not by a
stately avenue, but by a little wicket gate leading through a field
without a footpath. Small and needy farmers had been its only tenants
for years, but when Mr and Mrs Roy came to Wavebury they took a fancy
to the old house, and arranged to hire five rooms in it. Terms being
satisfactorily settled with Mr Shivers, their landlord, who with his
wife continued to occupy the other part of the house, they took up their
abode with much comfort and contentment, and, when Biddy arrived, had
been living there for nearly two years. They were fond of Truslow
Manor, and found only one little drawback to it, which, they were
accustomed to say to each other, was hardly worth mentioning; for the
present, therefore, we will not mention it either.

Biddy looked out of her window with some curiosity the morning after her
arrival; she wondered what she should see by daylight. Not much, but
everything was in startling contrast to Buzley's Court. A field, a row
of tall elms growing at the end of it, which cut off any further view; a
flock of geese, a flock of turkeys, a little black donkey, a foal, and a
rough pony--that was all. She afterwards discovered that there wa