IN one of the midland counties of England, there is a village of considerable size; of such size indeed that the inhabitants sometimes call it a town; but it must be confessed that, in spite of this, it is straggling of aspect. I think myself that it is a mistake to call it a town, because as a village it is a large place, whereas, considered as a town, it is disappointing; but no doubt this is a matter of opinion. The name of the place is Fairford, and it is divided by a shallow stream into two parts, High and Low Fairford. It took its name from the existence of a ford, which but is not much used, as there has long been an excellent stone bridge over the river. None but the Low Fairford boys, on their way to school in High Fairford, ever use the ford now, but they seem to prefer it to this day. High Fairford contains not only the school but the post-office, the market-place, shops, and several houses of respectable size and appearance, which all cluster round the church and parsonage. Then Low Fairford, to which you go by a street so steep that it is like the roof of a house, and across the little bridge at the foot of the hill,is merely a straggling street of cottages, which stand farther and farther apart until they are lost altogether, and you reach the border of a great piece of wood, the remains of a very celebrated forest in which Robin Hood once carried on business in the very "taking" fashion peculiar to that class of hero. In a large flat space, close to the forest, there are twelve pretty houses all in a row. They stand separate, each in a little garden, and a broad road sweeps all round them, bounded on one side by the low walls of the gardens, on the other by a high wall with two gates, one in front and one at the back. That into the forest is seldom opened, but the one which faces the village is open all day. These twelve houses were built more than a hundred and fifty years ago, by a lady who owned all the land in those parts, and who was the last of her race and name. Hers had been a grand family, and though active enough in all the troubles of their times, they had contrived to keep their property together. But if the property did not diminish, the family did, and ended at last in one young orphan girl, Mabel Greatrex; whose name will outlive those of all the rest of her house. This young girl, being rich and fair, had no lack of suitors for her hand. But she was a long time before she met with one to her mind; so long that people had begun to say that she would never marry at all. But the right man came at last, and married she was, in the church of High Fairford; and the wedding party was coming gallantly down the hill and over the ford, on horseback, according to the fashion of the day, when the bridegroom's horse slipped on a stone in the water, grew frightened and restive, struggled out of the stream on the Low Fairford side, and scoured away towards the forest. No one was alarmed, for Sir Henry was a gallant rider; but while they watched how he was bringing his horse under control again, they saw him carried under the branch of great tree, which swept him from the saddle and left him dead for his bride to find when she galloped up.