! The
staircase, which is flooded with light from the beautiful stained-glass
window, has many fine canvases, notably Landseer's original study for
the companion to "Bolton Abbey in the Olden Time," a genuine Holbein of
Harry the Eighth, a Linnell, small but precious, for it cost three
hundred guineas, and the sketch for Sir Joshua Reynolds's "Holy Family."

In a small ante-room near here hangs a portrait of Miss Florence
Nightingale as she appeared when engaged in her noble duties in the
Crimean War. We pause for a moment before a moonlight scene--a picture
of the graveyard in the Crimea, and Sir Robert crosses to a table and
takes from it a forty-two pound shot, which he places in my hand--a shot
of steel, forged and not cast.

"I keep that picture to remind me how very near I was being put to rest
there myself," he said, thoughtfully; then, pointing to the cannon ball,
he added, "Yes, and that very nearly did it. The story goes a long way
to prove that nothing is ever lost by being polite."

Sir Robert Rawlinson is probably the only man living who has been
knocked off his horse by a cannon ball. It was Sunday morning, the 18th
of June, 1854, in the Crimea, that Sir Robert--then Mr. Rawlinson--was
riding out with some young artillery officers down a ravine called "The
Valley of the Shadow of Death." A great crowd of our soldiers were
assembled on Cathcart's Hill, and the Russians began firing. Mr.
Rawlinson called out to a captain:--

"I'm not going any farther; good morning," and raised his hat to salute
him. As he did so the shot came whizzing along in front of him, cutting
the reins, the pommel of the saddle, and driving a steel purse against
the crest of the hip-bone, making a large flesh wound, and seriously
bruising the bone. The rider thought he was cut in two.

[Illustration: THE CROOKED PATH.

_From a Painting by Richard Dadd._]

"Now, had I not raised my hat," said Sir Robert, merrily, "my right arm
must have been taken off, as the shot perforated my coat beneath the
arm. It has left a deep hole in my hip as a gentle little reminder!"

How pleasant were the picture stories told of the etchings and
engravings in the bedroom! Over the door are the dogs of Sir Walter
Scott, by a pupil of Tom Landseer--valuable, for it is the only proof
taken from the plate in that state. And the Landseers! Over the
mantel-board are "Night" and "Morning," and near by an etching--and Sir
Robert said he considered it bett