Filling the centre of the south end of the gallery is the striking picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in 1762, of Lord and Lady Pollington, later Earl and Countess of Mexborough, in their coronation robes, with their son and heir, John Savile, afterwards second Earl, as a child, between them. She was the youngest of the Delaval family, and is represented as a girl in the family groups below. She married in 1760 John Savile, Lord Pollington, created Earl of Mexborough in 1765, and died in 1821, the last survivor of that generation of her family. The child is represented as reaching up to the coronet which his mother is holding in her hand; and the story is told “that when Reynolds began to paint this picture he tried the effect of setting the coronet on her head, but being dissatisfied with the effect he placed it in her hand. It was shown to the little boy, and he was offered a choice of the crown or an apple. He preferred the former, and within a year inherited it on his father’s death.” In fact, however, his father did not die till 1778, when his son was seventeen, and the anecdote can only be reconciled with dates by supposing it to refer to the child’s succession to the courtesy title of Pollington, when his father became Earl in 1765. If we pass out at the southern end of the Long Gallery, the well-like back staircase, carried up from the bottom to the top of the house in a projection of the southern wing, will bring us through the southernmost gazebo on to the flat-leaded roof, on which the two other gazeboes open. Here is plainly seen the ground-plan of the house; and by looking over the parapet we may observe the squared leaden spout-heads, most of them bearing the initials and the Ram’s Head crest of Sir John Hussey-Delaval, with the date 1765. A few bear the date 1733, thus going back to the ownership of Mrs. Apreece. Close in front of the Hall, encouraged by its shelter, a broad-leafed magnolia has out-topped the Hall itself, while in the north-west corner stands the great holly, measuring 12 feet round the hole, but with half its massive head now split off by a great storm, 24th March 1895. Tradition says that it once saved the life of a young lady who was pursued to the roof by a too ardent admirer, and who jumped into it from the roof to escape his embraces.