So much the squire could do; but as to the putting by of the few pounds, any dependence on such exertion as that on his part would, we may say, be very precarious.
Belton Castle was not in truth a castle.

Immediately before the front door, so near to the house as merely to allow of a broad road running between it and the entrance porch, there stood an old tower, which gave its name to the residence,--an old square tower, up which the Amedroz boys for three generations had been able to climb by means of the ivy and broken stones in one of the inner corners,--and this tower was a remnant of a real castle that had once protected the village of Belton.

The house itself was an ugly residence, three stories high, built in the time of George II., with low rooms and long passages, and an immense number of doors.

It was a large unattractive house,--unattractive, that is, as regarded its own attributes,--but made interesting by the beauty of the small park in which it stood.

Belton Park did not, perhaps, contain much above a hundred acres, but the land was so broken into knolls and valleys, in so many places was the rock seen to be cropping up through the verdure, there were in it so many stunted old oaks, so many points of vantage for the lover of scenery, that no one would believe it to be other than a considerable domain.