nd the car glided off, carrying Celia still
nearer to the unknown.

They ran through a beautiful, undulating country, dotted here and there
with farms. Then the way grew wilder. 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. There are
plenty of rooms vacant, unfortunately."

"Does no one live here?" asked Celia, with astonishment.

"Only myself and the other servants," replied Mrs. Dexter. "The Marquess
is enormously rich, probably one of the richest noblemen in England. Of
course, some of the rooms, the state-rooms, are kept shrouded; but they
could be prepared almost at an hour's notice--though we might not get
that," she added, with a smile. "I hope you will not feel dull and
lonely. You have come from London, where everything is so bright and
gay."

Celia thought of the Jail and smiled.

"We are rather isolated here," continued Mrs. Dexter. "There is the
village, of course; but we have very few neighbours. The nearest house
of any consequence, Lensmore Grange, is nearly two miles away. Didn't
you know that you would be alone here? Oh, I hope you won't mind, for I
had so looked forward to having someone in the house."

"No, no," said Celia, quickly, and she smiled again, reassuringly. "I
think I rather like it; and if I didn't, I should remain, for I am quite
poor, and this situation means so much to me."

This little speech completed Celia's conquest of the good-natured
housekeeper.

"We must try to make it as cheerful as we can for you, my dear--I mean,
Miss Grant," sh