"Oh, Dick, how pretty!" she exclaimed, her beautiful face radiant with delight as she gazed at the ivy-covered little house with its latticed windows and Gothic porch.
A young girl—the village slavey Dick had engaged—stood under the porch to welcome them, and demurely conducted Nell over the lodge.
They scrambled through a hasty meal, and Dick invited Nell—with a touch of importance and dignity which made her smile, to "come up and see the house."
They walked up a magnificent avenue, and stood for a moment or two looking upon one of the finest specimens of Gothic domestic architecture in England.
"Fine, isn't it?" said Dick, with bated breath. "Like a picture in a Christmas number, eh, Nell? See the carving along the front, and the terrace? And there's the peacock, there, perched behind that stone lion. Fancy such a place as this belonging to you, your very own. Yes, Lord Angleford's a lucky chap!"
They went up the stone steps to the terrace steps, up which Queen Bess had ascended with stately stride, and, crossing the terrace, into the hall.
The staircase, broad enough for a coach and four, had sheets of brown holland hanging from it, and the pictures, statuary, cabinets, and figures in armor were swathed in protecting covers; but enough was visible of the magnificence, the antiquity of the grand old hall to impress Nell.
Some men were at work, whitewashing and decorating, and they stopped their splashing to permit Nell and Dick to go upstairs; and one or two of them touched their hats respectfully to the pretty young lady and her brother.
The corridors were wide and newly decorated, and lined with priceless pictures which Nell longed to linger over; but Dick led her on from one room to another; from suites in which the antique furniture had been suffered to remain to others furnished with modern luxury.
As they went downstairs again they were met by a dignified old lady who introduced herself as the housekeeper; and who, upon being informed that Dick was "the gentleman from Bardsley & Bardsley," graciously conducted them over the state apartments. Most of us know Anglemere, either from having visited it, or from the innumerable photographs of it, but Nell had not seen any pictorial representation of it, and its glories broke upon her with all the force of freshness. In silent wonder she followed the stately dame as she led them from one magnificent room to another, remarking with a pleasant kind of condescension: