They passed across a stretch of moorland, turned into an avenue guarded by huge iron gates, and, mounting quickly, stopped before an old red brick mansion, the size and grandeur of which filled Celia with awe.

The great door opened, and a footman, behind him a middle-aged lady in a black silk dress, stood ready to receive Celia.
"I am the housekeeper--Mrs.Dexter," said the lady, pleasantly.

"I am afraid you have had a wearisome journey, Miss Grant.

Let me take you to your room at once." They crossed a large hall, lit by the afternoon sun, which, streaming through a window of stained glass, poured flashes of vari-coloured light on the antique furniture, the men in armour, the trophies and pictures on the wall.

Mrs.Dexter led the way up a broad flight of stairs to a room on the first floor, a room so large and beautiful that Celia had difficulty in repressing an exclamation.
"Is this for me ?" she could not help asking.
"Yes," replied Mrs.Dexter, "unless you wish to change it.