They were just turning in at some open gates, and before them was a shady avenue. At the end, some more gates, of finely wrought Flemish work, admitted them to the sunny gardens and terrace; while before them stood the grand old Hall, with its grey walls and quaint gables and oriel windows embowered in ivy and creepers.
"It is a lovely old place," murmured Althea; but Mollie and Waveney were speechless with admiration. To their eyes it looked like an enchanted palace, surrounded by shimmering green lawns. The great door was wide open, as though to receive them; but there was no sign of human life. When the carriage had driven away, Moritz took Mollie's hand and led her across the wide hall, with its pillars, and grand oak carvings, its mighty fireplace, and walls covered with curious weapons, with here and there a stag's antlers, or the head of a grinning leopard.
They only paused for a moment to admire the great stone staircase, that was broad enough for a dozen men to walk abreast. One of the Ralstons, in a mad frolic, had once ridden his gallant grey up to the very top of the staircase.
"I am going to show you everything," observed Ingram, as they walked down the softly carpeted corridor. "We call this the Zoo," he continued, "for if you look at the pictures, Mollie, you will see they are mostly of animals. There are some good proof engravings of Landseer, and the sculpture is rather fine; but the most beautiful groups are in the picture-gallery, upstairs. The fifth Viscount Ralston was a connoisseur of art, and spent a good deal of his income in pictures and sculpture. It was he who brought the Flemish gates from Belgium; they are considered very fine, and are always pointed out to visitors."
Mollie began to feel a little breathless; she wanted to linger in every room, but Moritz, who had his work cut out for him, hurried her on.
They went through the big dining-room, which was large enough for a banqueting-hall, and into a smaller one, where the table was already laid for luncheon; and then into the library and morning-room. When Mollie asked, with naive curiosity, if there were no drawing-room, Moritz laughed and told her to wait.
"These are Ralston's private quarters," he said, ushering her into a cosy sitting-room, fitted up for a gentleman's use. But when Mollie would have investigated, with girlish curiosity, the mass of papers on the writing table, he quietly took her arm, and marched her into the billiard-room adjoining. "Ralston would not like us to look at his papers," he said, gravely. "He is an untidy fellow, and his writing-table is always in confusion."
"Is Lord Ralston married?" asked Mollie, presently, as they went slowly up the stone staircase. Althea, who overheard her, was obliged to pause; she was shaking with suppressed mirth; but Waveney was far too busily engaged in admiring a painted window to notice her merriment. Ingram was quite equal to the occasion.
"He is not married yet, dear," he returned, quickly, "but he does not expect to be a bachelor much longer. Shall I show you the rooms that he has chosen for his future wife, or shall we go to the picture-gallery?" But Mollie's excitement was too great for fatigue, and she at once decided to see Lady Ralston's rooms.
To Mollie's inexperienced eyes they were grand enough for the Queen. She was almost indignant when Moritz explained that the boudoir and dressing-room were to be refurnished. It was shameful extravagance, she repeated, more than once; what did it matter if the furniture was a little old fashioned? Mollie was quite eloquent on the subject, as she stood in the wide bay window of the boudoir. It was a charming window. Mollie looked straight down the avenue to the great bronze gates. The rooks were cawing in the elms; some tame pheasants were pluming themselves on the lawn below; and a wicked-looking jackdaw was strutting up and down the terrace. The beds were full of spring flowers.