Cameron Court, the favorite seat of Berenice, Countess of Hurstmonceux, was situated about seven miles south of Edinboro', on the north banks of the Esk. It was an elegant modern edifice, raised upon the ruins of an ancient castle, overhanging a perpendicular precipice, with a sheer descent of several hundred feet to the river. It looked down upon the course of the Esk, winding between rocks of lofty height, whose sides were fringed with a tangled mass of shrubs, ferns, and thistles, and whose summits were crowned with thickets of hazel, pine, and birch. On still higher ground, behind the house, and sheltering it from the northern blast, stood a thick wood of cedar, beech, and fir trees. Many winding footpaths led through this wood, and down the rocks and along the edge of the river. A wilder, more picturesque and romantic spot could scarcely have been found for a dwelling-place.
In summer, green with foliage, bright with blooming flowers, and musical with singing birds and purling brooks, it was beautiful! But in winter, bound in ice, mantled with snow, and gemmed with frost, it was sublime!
Such was the aspect of the place without; while within were collected all the comforts, luxuries, and elegances that wealth, taste, and intellect could command.
Within a short distance of this charming residence stood Craigmillar Castle, an old ruin, memorable from having been the first residence of Mary Queen of Scots after her return from France; and also her favorite retreat when driven to seek repose from the clashing antagonisms of her court at Holyrood.
Nearer still, on the banks of the Esk, stood Roslyn Castle and Chapel, famous in song and story for "the lordly line of high St. Clair"; and Hawthornden, remarkable for its enormous artificial caves, hewn out of the solid foundation rocks, and used as a place of refuge during the barbarous wars of by-gone ages; and many other interesting monuments of history and tradition.
To this attractive home Lady Hurstmonceux had brought Claudia late one winter afternoon.
At that hour, between the thickness of the Scotch mist and the low, gathering shadows of the night, but little could be seen or surmised of the scenery surrounding the house.
But Claudia keenly appreciated the comfort and elegance of the well- warmed and brightly lighted rooms within.
Not that they were more luxurious or more splendid than those she had left forever behind at Castle Cragg, but they were—oh, so different!
There all the magnificence was tainted with the presence of guilt; here all was pure with innocence. There she had been "under the curse"; here she was "under the benediction." There she had been tormented by a devil; here she was comforted by an angel. And this is scarcely putting the comparison, as it existed in her experience, too strongly.