ook hanging by a rope attached to a hook in the ceiling. After
the inquest the lady gave up the house.

"It was then closed up for some time, but was again advertised 'To let,'
and a caretaker, a woman, was put into it. One night about one o'clock, a
constable going his rounds heard some one calling for help from the
house, and found the caretaker on the sill of one of the windows holding
on as best she could. He told her to go in and open the hall door and let
him in, but she refused to enter the room again. He forced open the door
and succeeded in dragging the woman back into the room, only to find she
had gone mad.

"Again the house was shut up, and again it was let, this time to a lady,
on a five-years' lease. However, after a few months' residence, she
locked it up, and went away. On her friends asking her why she did so,
she replied that she would rather pay the whole five years' rent than
live in it herself, or allow anyone else to do so, but would give no
other reason.

"'I believe I was the next person to take this house,' said the lady who
narrated the story to me (_i.e._ Mr. de Lacy). 'I took it about eighteen
months ago on a three years' lease in the hopes of making money by taking
in boarders, but I am now giving it up because none of them will stay
more than a week or two. They do not give any definite reason as to why
they are leaving; they are careful to state that it is not because they
have any fault to find with me or my domestic arrangements, but they
merely say _they do not like the rooms_! The rooms themselves, as you can
see, are good, spacious, and well lighted. I have had all classes of
professional men; one of the last was a barrister, and he said that he
had no fault to find except that _he did not like the rooms_! I myself do
not believe in ghosts, and I have never seen anything strange here or
elsewhere; and if I had known the house had the reputation of being
haunted, I would never have rented it."

Marsh's library, that quaint, old-world repository of ponderous tomes, is
reputed to be haunted by the ghost of its founder, Primate Narcissus
Marsh. He is said to frequent the inner gallery, which contains what was
formerly his own private library: he moves in and out among the cases,
taking down books from the shelves, and occasionally throwing them down
on the reader's desk as if in anger. However, he always leaves things in
perfect order. The late Mr. ----, who for some years lived in the