such times. Now see; this is
the house. Livelier up here, isn't it, miss?'

They were now on rising ground, and had just emerged from a clump of
trees. Still a little higher than where they stood was situated the
mansion, called Knapwater House, the offices gradually losing themselves
among the trees behind.

2. EVENING

The house was regularly and substantially built of clean grey freestone
throughout, in that plainer fashion of Greek classicism which prevailed
at the latter end of the last century, when the copyists called
designers had grown weary of fantastic variations in the Roman orders.
The main block approximated to a square on the ground plan, having a
projection in the centre of each side, surmounted by a pediment. From
each angle of the inferior side ran a line of buildings lower than the
rest, turning inwards again at their further end, and forming
within them a spacious open court, within which resounded an echo of
astonishing clearness. These erections were in their turn backed by
ivy-covered ice-houses, laundries, and stables, the whole mass of
subsidiary buildings being half buried beneath close-set shrubs and
trees.

There was opening sufficient through the foliage on the right hand to
enable her on nearer approach to form an idea of the arrangement of the
remoter or lawn front also. The natural features and contour of this
quarter of the site had evidently dictated the position of the
house primarily, and were of the ordinary, and upon the whole, most
satisfactory kind, namely, a broad, graceful slope running from the
terrace beneath the walls to the margin of a placid lake lying below,
upon the surface of which a dozen swans and a green punt floated at
leisure. An irregular wooded island stood in the midst of the lake;
beyond this and the further margin of the water were plantations and
greensward of varied outlines, the trees heightening, by half veiling,
the softness of the exquisite landscape stretching behind.

The glimpses she had obtained of this portion were now checked by the
angle of the building. In a minute or two they reached the side door, at
which Cytherea alighted. She was welcomed by an elderly woman of lengthy
smiles and general pleasantness, who announced herself to be Mrs.
Morris, the housekeeper.

'Mrs. Graye, I believe?' she said.

'I am not--O yes, yes, we are all mistresses,' said Cytherea, smiling,
but forcedly. The title accorded her seemed disagreeably like the fir