range repasts, just as if Congreve himself had been present.

Saint Foix, it may be remembered, who wrote in the time of Louis XIV.,
has left an interesting account of the ceremonial after the death of
a King of France, during the forty days before the funeral, when his
wax effigy lay in state. It appears that the royal officers served him
at meals as though he were still alive, the maitre d'hotel handed the
napkin to the highest lord present to be delivered to the king, a
prelate blessed the table, and the basins of water were handed to the
royal armchair. Grace was said in the accustomed manner, save that
there was added to it the "De Profundis." We cannot be surprised that
such strange proceedings as these gave rise to much ridicule, and
helped to bring the Court itself into contempt.

FOOTNOTES:

[15] Miss Jackson's "Shropshire Folklore," 101.

[16] Family Romance, 1853, pp. 1-8.

[17] Harland's "Lancashire Legends," 271-2.

[18] Sir Bernard Burke, "Family Romance," 1853, I., 307-12.

CHAPTER V.

MYSTERIOUS ROOMS.

A jolly place, said he, in days of old;
But something ails it now--the spot is curst.
WORDSWORTH.

A peculiar feature of many old country houses is the so-called
"strange room," around which the atmosphere of mystery has long clung.
In certain cases, such rooms have gained an unenviable notoriety from
having been the scene, in days gone by, of some tragic occurrence, the
memory of which has survived in the local legend, or tradition. The
existence, too, of such rooms has supplied the novelist with the most
valuable material for the construction of those plots in which the
mysterious element holds a prominent place. Historical romance, again,
with its tales of adventure, has invested numerous rooms with a grim
aspect, and caused the imagination to conjure up all manner of weird
and unearthly fancies concerning them. Walpole, for instance, writing
of Berkeley Castle, says: "The room shown for the murder of Edward
II., and the shrieks of an agonising king, I verily believe to be
genuine. It is a dismal chamber, almost at the top of the house, quite
detached, and to be approached only by a kind of footbridge, and from
that descends a large flight of steps that terminates on strong gates,
exactly a situation for a _corps de garde_." And speaking of Edward's
imprisonment here, may be mentioned the pathetic story told by Sir
Richard Baker, in his usual odd, circumsta