The western sun was still upon the house itself. The dusk-tiled mansard
roof, pierced by two rows of twinkling dormers, and crowned by solid
chimney-stacks, bulked vast and shapely against the primrose sky, and
the stone-shafted lower windows caught many a fiery reflection in their
blackness. Through a porch broad and deep, and furnished with oaken
seats, Bessie preceded her grandfather into a lofty and spacious hall,
where the foot rang on the bare, polished boards, and ten generations of
Fairfaxes, successive dwellers in the grand old house, looked down from
the walls. It was not lighted except by the sunset, which filled it with
a warm and solemn glow.

Numerous servants appeared, amongst them a plump functionary in blue
satinette and a towering cap, who curtseyed to Elizabeth and spoke some
words of real welcome: "I'm right glad to see you back, Miss Fairfax;
these arms were the first that held you." Bessie's impulse was to fall
on the neck of this kindly personage with kisses and tears, but her
grandfather's cool tone intervening maintained her reserve:

"Your young mistress will be pleased to go to her room, Macky. Your
reminiscences will keep till to-morrow."

Macky, instantly obedient, begged Miss Fairfax to "come this way," and
conducted her through a double-leaved door that stood open to the inner
hall, carpeted with crimson pile, like the wide shallow stairs that went
up to the gallery surrounding the greater hall. On this gallery opened
many doors of chambers long silent and deserted.

"The master ordered you the white suite," announced Macky, ushering
Elizabeth into the room so called. "It has pretty prospects, and the
rooms are not such wildernesses as the other state-apartments. The