All this was new, not three years old; but soon they were in the ancient part of the policy which had surrounded the old house of Glenavelin.

Here the grass was lusher, the trees antique oaks and beeches, and grey walls showed the boundary of an old pleasure-ground.
Here in the soft sunlit afternoon sleep hung like a cloud, and the peace of centuries dwelt in the long avenues and golden pastures.

Another turning and the house came in sight, at first glance a jumble of grey towers and ivied walls.

Wings had been built to the original square keep, and even now it was not large, a mere moorland dwelling.

But the whitewashed walls, the crow-step gables, and the quaint Scots baronial turrets gave it a perfection to the eye like a house in a dream.