"It was not till May that I first saw my new home, and even then I left London with regret. My father had gone down two or three times to see that everything was in order. Servants had been engaged, and the place was quite comfortable when we arrived.
"Somerville is a fine old house, but unfortunately the man who had decided upon the position chose it with more regard to appearance than health. In the park around, which covers about a thousand acres, there are hundreds of what modern builders would call 'eligible and imposing sites,' yet this perverse man placed his building in a hollow, surrounded on three sides by rising ground, opening only to the south. The slopes are covered with magnificent trees; a stream rushes down behind the building and falls over a beautiful waterfall into a lake. This expanse of water, the foliage and enclosing hills, make the situation relaxing, and in summer time the air is very oppressive.
"I was, however, at first much too delighted with the place to think of these defects. We arrived on a beautiful evening, bright, yet cool; the sunset made a lovely background for the trees. Through gaps in the dark foliage the red light fell in patterns on the moss-covered stone roofing of the house, or was reflected from the surface of the lake. The birds were singing gaily, their song mingling pleasantly with the sound of falling water. There had been heavy rain, and the air was full of the sweet, yet bitter, smell of earth, decaying leaves, and spring flowers.
"The house, which had been built during the reign of Charles I., was a long, low, stone building, with mullioned windows. It gave the idea of being larger than it really was, but owing to its moderate proportions, the rooms were very comfortable. There was little oak to be seen in the house, the panelling and furniture throughout being of mahogany, which was nearly black with age. The walls were covered with tapestry, pictures, armour, and many relics of bygone sport.
"While looking round I thought of my husband, and tried to picture him as a child playing in the old rooms. For a moment I wished that he were there and could tell me the stories connected with some of the relics.
"'Father,' I said, 'we shall, after all, have to ask Vancome down, if only to learn something about my new family history.'
"A look of annoyance passed over my father's face, and he answered crossly--
"'Nonsense, child! I hope you will not think of such a thing! There is an old housekeeper who has been here for goodness knows how many years; I kept her on that she might be useful. Whatever you want to know Mrs. King will no doubt be able to tell you.' Then, apparently remembering the altered position of affairs, his voice changed as he continued, 'Well, dearest, and what do you think of your new home? It is a lovely place for a young girl to be mistress of, and if sensible she will be in no hurry to hand it over to any spendthrift master. Should you require a little knowledge or advice, who can give it you better than your father? In me, little one, you will find a man who is willing to take the trouble and responsibility off your hands, and at the same time leave you free to do just as you choose.'
"This was not the first time that I had noticed how strongly my father was opposed to the idea of any meeting taking place between my husband and myself. I am now inclined to fancy that the reason we left London at the commencement of the season was owing more to his influence than to my own inclination. He had always been picturing to me the delights of country life in my new home; and it is quite possible that the fear of Vancome returning to London had a good deal to do with his action. Nor did he confine himself to this course only. Every story he could rake up which presented my husband in a vile or ridiculous light was repeated to me, and I have since found out that many of these reports were highly coloured. My mother, in a feeble way, backed him up.
"'Darling,' she said to me on the night of our arrival, when I went up to her room to kiss her before going to bed; 'what a lucky girl you are! Marriage is not by any means all that you young people think, even if by some rare chance you do secure a good husband. To be tied down to one man, and have to put up with all his little fads, jealousies, or tempers; never to be able to call a day your own, or to make friends of one of the other sex without the possibility of a scene! Well, most of us have to take the chance of this kind of life at the best, or go unprovided for; while you, owing to the generosity of Alan Sydney, have, without any of the disadvantages, everything you can desire--wealth, freedom, and position. With such a fortune the world is at your feet, if only you keep that scamp of a husband of yours at arm's-length. Without your consent he can do nothing, but if you once allow him to get a footing here again, good-bye to your happiness, your money, and your power. Do not forget what I have said, dearest, and run away now, for I am very much done up after my journey.'