was now an impoverished man, there was
still left to him the means of keeping up the old home; and he told
himself that it must, if possible, be so kept that a few pounds
annually might be put by for Clara. The old carriage-horses were
sold, and the park was let to a farmer, up to the hall door of the
castle. So much the squire could do; but as to the putting by of
the few pounds, any dependence on such exertion as that on his part
would, we may say, be very precarious.

Belton Castle was not in truth a castle. Immediately before the front
door, so near to the house as merely to allow of a broad road running
between it and the entrance porch, there stood an old tower, which
gave its name to the residence,--an old square tower, up which the
Amedroz boys for three generations had been able to climb by means
of the ivy and broken stones in one of the inner corners,--and this
tower was a remnant of a real castle that had once protected the
village of Belton. The house itself was an ugly residence, three
stories high, built in the time of George II., with low rooms and
long passages, and an immense number of doors. It was a large
unattractive house,--unattractive, that is, as regarded its own
attributes,--but made interesting by the beauty of the small park in
which it stood. Belton Park did not, perhaps, contain much above a
hundred acres, but the land was so broken into knolls and valleys,
in so many places was the rock seen to be cropping up through the
verdure, there were in it so many stunted old oaks, so many points
of vantage for the lover of scenery, that no one would believe it
to be other than a considerable domain. The farmer who took it, and
who would not under any circumstances undertake to pay more than
seventeen shillings an acre for it, could not be made to think that
it was in any way considerable. But Belton Park, since first it
was made a park, had never before been regarded after this fashion.
Farmer Stovey, of the Grange, was the first man of that class who
had ever assumed the right to pasture his sheep in Belton chase,--as
the people around were still accustomed to call the woodlands of the
estate.

It was full summer at Belton, and four months had now passed since
the dreadful tidings had reached the castle. It was full summer,
and the people of the village were again going about their ordinary
business; and the shop-girls, with their lovers from Redicote, were
again to be seen walking among the oa