Penshurst village proved to be even prettier than those they had seen from the train. The Lord of Penshurst Place is a very wise, appreciative man, and he has made a rule that when any cottage in the village is found to be beyond repair, it shall be replaced by a new house exactly like the original. In consequence, the houses look equally old and equally attractive, with their roofs of grayish thatch, and the second stories leaning protectingly over the lower windows, overgrown with rose-vines.
Mrs. Pitt went into the tiny post-office to buy their tickets of admission to the castle, and when she called out that there were also pretty post-cards to be had, the others quickly followed. Having chosen their cards, they all walked through the little church-yard, with its ancient yew trees, and out into a field from which they could see Penshurst Place itself.
“Why! isn’t it a huge place!” cried Barbara. “This is just as new to Philip and me, you know, Betty, for we have never been here, either.”
“How charmingly situated it is!” exclaimed Mrs. Pitt enthusiastically. “Just a glance at it would tell you that it was never a strong fortress. Like Raby Castle, another favorite of mine, I believe that Penshurst never stood a siege. But it is so stately and graceful, standing in the center of these perfect lawns and groups of noble old trees! It is a beautiful contrast to the many fortress-castles! This seems to speak of peace, happiness, and safety.”
The castle covers a great deal of ground, and is low and square, with here and there a turret. A terrace, or broad walk, runs the length of the front of the building, where the moat formerly was, and the party crossed this to reach the entrance-way. His Lordship came out just then, with his dog, and glanced kindly at the eager young people. Continuing, they crossed a square court, and came to a second gateway, where a servant met them and conducted them into the old-time Baronial-hall, dating from the fourteenth century.
“This,” announced the guide with tremendous pride, “we believe to be the only banquet-hall now remaining in England, where the ancient fireplace in the center of the room still exists. You’ll see many fine halls, but you’ll not see another such fireplace.”
John went up to investigate, and found that right in the middle of the vast room was a high hearth, on which some logs were piled. “But how——?” he was asking, when the guide’s explanations flowed on once more:
“This seems to speak of peace, happiness, and safety.” Page [44].