been displayed in their construction. The builder of to-day,
as a rule, knows nothing of and cares less, for such things,
and so they are swept away without a thought. To such vandals
we can only emphasise the remarks we have already made about
the market value of a "priest-hole" nowadays.

A little to the right of the Kidderminster road, and about two
miles from the pretty village of Chaddesley Corbet, with its old
timber houses and inn, stands the ghostly old hall of Harvington.
The ancient red-brick pile rises out of its reed-grown moat with
that air of mystery which age and seeming neglect only can impart.
Coming upon it unexpectedly, especially towards dusk, one is
struck with the strange, dignified melancholy pervading it. Surely
Hood's _Haunted House_ or Poe's _House of Usher_ stands
before us, and we cannot get away from the impression that a
mystery is wrapped within its walls. Harvington Hall dates from
the reign of Henry VIII., but it has undergone various changes,
so it is difficult to affix any particular period or style to
its architecture; indeed, it is this medley of different styles
which forms such a poetically picturesque outline. In its day
Harvington could doubtless hold its own with the finest mansions
in the country, but now it is forgotten, deserted, and crumbling
to pieces. Its very history appears to be lost to the world, as
those who go to the county histories and general topographical
works for information will find.

Inside the mansion, like the exterior, the hand of decay is
perceptible on every side; the rooms are ruined, the windows
broken, the floors unsafe (excepting, by the way, a small portion
of the building which is habitable). A ponderous broad oak staircase