The Red Window by Fergus Hume — Read

"Hurseton, in Essex, lies about ten miles from the coast, and is elevated on a wide plateau whence can be obtained a fine and picturesque view of the famous marshes. It is a quaint, old-world village, gathered round an ancient Saxon Cross, which occupies the centre of the village green. The church -- eleventh century -- is dedicated to St. Peter, and is, for the most part, sunken in the ground owing to its antiquity. The tower and spire are of wood. Many of the gentry have country seats in this popular vicinity. The rising watering-place of Market-on-Sea, five miles distant, is much frequented by Londoners during the holiday season. Hurseton can be reached from town by rail a little over the hour."

So far the guide-book; but the above-mentioned gentry referred to therein were not at all pleased by the advertisement, as many of the cheap trippers came to visit the place from Market-on-Sea, and by no means improved the countryside with their rowdy manners. Miss Berengaria Plantagenet was especially wrathful at the yearly plague of sightseers, and would have put them all in jail had she been able. She was a dignified old lady, small in stature, with a withered rosy face, white hair, and eyes as keen as those of a robin, if not so shallow. Her mansion -- so she called it -- stood at the end of the village, a little way back from the long, straight road which ran towards the coast and the marshes. But the term mansion was rather a misnomer.