The lanes, the meadows, the sloping uplands, speckled and dotted with sheep and kine, an occasional gleam of sunshiny water half-hidden by alders, clumps of willows, and long grasses, the sweet sounds of country life, the passing jingle of the bells on a wagoner’s horses, made the way a veritable Arcadia of summer beauty. A joyous exhilaration filled Lois’ whole being, and she drank in the fresh, free air as if it had been the nectar of the gods. A tolerably smart drive of about an hour’s duration brought the visitors--for such they considered themselves--to the massive iron gates of the park surrounding Flore Hall. Miss Dormer drew up her cream-colored ponies, to let the two ladies obtain a general view of the outward walls and plantations, the pretty lodge, and the surrounding landscape. As Lois gazed upon the scene, she for the first time realized the dazzling change that had taken place in her position. Her varying color betrayed the emotions of her heart; but her companions were too much preoccupied with their inspection to have any attention to spare. Blanche Dormer knew the place well, but she now regarded with different eyes the familiar spot. Nothing whatever could be seen of the house from the gates, for the walls were very high, and the trees grew so close together that they formed an apparently impenetrable screen. A profound, peaceful silence reigned over the place, and but for the thin stream of smoke rising from the lodge chimney, it might have been conceivable that this was like one of those palaces familiar in the old fairy legends, where invisible spirits wait, and a spell lies over all. The mounted servant who attended the ladies alighted and rang the bell. The clang reverberated, and but a very few minutes elapsed before the summons was answered. An exceedingly pleasant-looking young rustic girl came trippingly along the neatly kept path from the lodge to the gates, and opening a small postern door at the side, stood, like some pretty rural figure in a quaintly designed frame, gazing in mingled astonishment and admiration at the visitors. In a moment or two a smile of recognition passed over her face as she saw Miss Dormer, and she curtsied, awaiting some explanation of the pleasure of the ladies. Lady Quaintree had ascertained the name of the housekeeper, and asked if she were in the house. “Yes, my lady,” the girl said. “We wish to see her,” Miss Dormer said. “Yes, miss,” the girl again said, curtsying with rustic civility at almost every monosyllable. “Open the gates, and let the ladies drive up to the house,” the groom said. “Is your grandfather at home?” “Yes,” the girl answered; but she unfastened the great iron gates herself, and let them swing back. Then she closed them, when the ponies had scampered through, and as the ladies passed up the carriage-drive she ran back to the lodge, to inform her deaf old grandfather that some visitors had arrived.