322 POPULAR TALES OF FLOWERS 
session of the ancient manor-house of the Nevilles until 
the most solemn assurance was given him that not one 
of the family was then left alive upon the face of the 
earth ; nor did he know that such a person as Ellen 
Neville ever existed in the world, for she had been edu- 
cated in a remote part of the country j neither was it long 
before the eve of her brother’s death that she had, since 
her youthful days, dwelt under the ancient roof of her 
forefathers. 
Thus when General Marchmont took possession of the 
splendid old mansion, as a gift from those who then ruled 
the nation, and a reward for his unimpeached valour, he 
was led to believe that he had only accepted what would 
have fallen to the nation, or, at best, slumbered for long 
years in the Court of Chancery, until some unknown and 
undreamed-of claimant had risen up, and groped his way 
towards it, through the dark and uncertain avenues of the 
law. 
So he entered those walls with no other feeling than 
that of sorrow for the ancient possessors who were dead. 
Care had been taken to remove all the old domestics; 
and, with the exception of a Parliamentary agent, who had 
been sent down to take an inventory of the property, no 
one besides knew that the young lady in deep mourning 
was the Lady Neville, for she had never accosted one of 
them before her departure, nor quitted the apartments 
which had been allotted to her during the confiscation, 
saving to ramble in the ancient garden. 
Ellen Neville was too well versed in the changes which 
those stormy times produced to be at all astonished at 
what had happened ; for she knew that she had suffered 
as others had done who had fallen from their high estate. 
And although in heart a staunch Royalist, she had heard 
so much said in praise of the young general — of his 
valour, his losses, the sacrifices he had several times 
made when he thought another would be injured by the 
offers made to him by Parliament — that such rumours at 
last almost seemed to reconcile her to her lot. 
Two or three ancient footpaths crossed the park, and 
led to distant villages in various directions; and by the 
time that another spring had deepened into summer, she 
had so far overcome her old scruples that, through the 
