Then in regular order came the barons who had rallied around Hereward in his last desperate stand against the usurper, William of Normandy; the iron-clad knights who had followed Richard of the Lion heart to the Holy Land; the barons who had taken up arms in support of the House of York against that of Lancaster; the plumed cavaliers who had insanely flocked with all their retainers to the standard of the Stuarts in every mad attempt of that unhappy family to regain their lost throne; periwig-pated courtiers of the Georgian dynasty; and, lastly, the swallowtail coated and patent leather booted gentlemen of the Victorian age, as represented by the late squire and his three sons.
The ladies of the chiefs were all there, too, each by the side of her “lord,” and dressed in costume of her time, or in what was supposed to be such, for there is little doubt that many of the earlier portraits were merely fancy pictures.
Before the group of the late squire and his family Judy suddenly caught her breath and clasped her hands and stood stock-still, gazing on the full-length picture of a beautiful dark girl.
“It is like, isn’t it now, ma’am?” inquired the housekeeper.
“Like! Why, the picture might be taken for his portrait if it were not for the dress!” exclaimed Judy, gazing at her husband.
“It is still more like my Cousin Palma,” said Ran.
“Why, so it is,” assented Judy; “and does not need change of dress to make it perfect. The hair of that lady in the picture is worn exactly as Palma wears hers, and that costume of dark blue is not unlike the dress Palma wore to our wedding in color and make.”
“It is indeed a wonderful likeness to Mrs. Stuart,” remarked Mr. Walling. “Who is the lady?” he demanded, turning to the housekeeper.
“The last Mrs. Hay, of Haymore, the grandmother of the young squire here. She died at the age of twenty-three, leaving three boys, of one, two and three years of age—to give the figures in round numbers,” replied Mrs. Basset.
“Yes, I know she was the wife of the late squire; but whose daughter was she?” persisted Will Walling.