The house was built in the rude, strong, plain style of the best old colonial mansions, of rough-hewn gray rocks of every variegated shade of red, blue, green, yellow, purple and orange, which gave a mosaic aspect to the walls. It was an oblong double house, with a broad double door, having two long windows on each side of the first floor, and five windows on the second floor, surmounted by a steep roof, with five dormer windows, and buttressed by four huge chimneys, two at each gable end. There were many old oak, elm and chestnut trees around the dwelling, and there were smaller houses, of rude construction, in the rear. When the ox cart stopped before the door Stuart got off his seat and lifted down his wife and her attendant. He tucked Palma’s hand under his arm and led her up the few steps that went up to the front door. That door was open and full of light from a large lamp that hung from the ceiling of the spacious hall, and within the door stood the master of the house to welcome his coming relatives. He was a man of middle height—the thinnest, whitest, most shadowy living man they had ever seen. “You are welcome to Wolfscliff, my dears,” he said, giving a hand each to Palma and to Cleve. “We are very glad to see you, uncle,” said the two in one breath. “And this lady?” said the old-fashioned gentleman, with native courtesy as he held out his hand to Mrs. Pole, of whom he had just caught sight. “Our friend, Mrs. Pole, who never leaves Palma, uncle,” explained Cleve. “Ah! I am glad to see you, ma’am,” said Mr. Cleve. “Thank you, sir. I am only Mrs. Cleve Stuart’s housekeeper and attendant,” said Mrs. Pole, who would not consent to seem a half an inch above her real social position. “Ah! And a very trusted and esteemed friend, also, I have no doubt,” replied the old gentleman. “She is, indeed, sir, like a mother to my delicate Palma,” assented Stuart. “I am very glad she consented to accompany you here,” said Mr. Cleve. In the moment they stood there talking Palma took in with her eyes the whole of the spacious hall. It ran from front to back through the middle of the house, with double doors at each end, four doors on either side and a broad staircase going up from the midst. A hat rack and half a dozen heavy oak chairs were the only furniture. There was no carpet on the polished oak floor, no pictures on the paneled wall. “Will you come into the parlor, or would you prefer, first, to go to your rooms?” inquired the old gentleman, opening a door on his right. “Which would you rather do, Palma?” inquired Cleve. “Oh, go into the parlor! You see, uncle, we have not come through dust, but through snow, and we are as clean as when we had washed this morning,” replied Palma.