Having thus sketched the history of its successive owners, let us enter the house itself. We shall find it still peopled with their memories, their portraits looking down on the rooms in which so much of their lives was passed. Passing through the triple-gabled gate-house which forms the main entrance, we find ourselves in the east garden or fore court, now well-nigh filled with four stately cedars of Lebanon. These might seem coëval with the house itself, but in fact they are coëval only with the latest family of its owners, having been planted here about 1829. Fronting us is the central porch on which more elaboration has been bestowed than on any other part of the building. This admits us directly into the hall, a room 53 feet in length by 22 feet in breadth, filling up the whole width of the body of the house. Originally its floor was plaster, and from this and the general whiteness of its walls and furniture it was known as the White Hall. But in 1861 it was refloored with oak grown on the estate, and furnished with more regard to comfort and suitableness as a general sitting-room for the family. At one end hangs a fine picture by Guido of the Angel appearing to Hagar and Ishmael in the wilderness, its purchase and presence here being due to Mr. Edward Hussey-Delaval’s artistic tastes. The marble mantelpiece is one of those bought by Lord Delaval in 1761, and over it are ranged steel caps and helmets; and among these an iron branks or scold’s bridle, with a projecting spike before the mouth, used as a punishment for scolding women. Near it is another grim relic of the past—the headpiece of the irons in which a man, commonly known as Tom Otter, was gibbeted on Saxilby Moor in 1806 for the murder of his wife. Here, too, we may see several of the oak carvings, framed as pictures, and remarkable for their depth of cutting and multiplicity of figures, that were executed by Colonel Jarvis in his later life.