[Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XV. STANTON COURT. STANTON COURT was and is a magnificent pile of building. The oldest part, a great grim tower, was built about the time of the Conqueror—or such, at least, is the family tradition—but the main building, and that which gives character to the whole, belongs to the early days of Elizabeth. The fact that the same material—a warmly tinted red stone—is used throughout gives a kind of unity to the whole. The gardens have always been very fine, being enriched, like ours at Tre Madoc, with all sorts of exotic trees and plants, brought home from foreign parts by those wandering Corbets. There is also an orangery and green-house, which at that time had been but lately erected, and was a special hobby of my lady's. There was a good deal of company staying in the house, for my lord was fond of society, and made his two step-daughters an excuse for filling his house with young men. Martha, the elder, was already engaged, and was to be married before long. We were warmly welcomed by my lady, a kind and motherly woman, and by Theo, her second daughter. Mrs. Martha was just decently civil, and that was all. She looked at every one as if she were mentally taking their measure. I took a dislike to her from the first moment I ever saw her, and I have never seen occasion to change my mind. We had a delightful apartment assigned to us—a large, airy room, with an adjacent sitting-room, all prettily fitted up, for my mother, and a turret-room near by for me. My lady made an excuse for giving me so small a lodging, saying that some of the bedrooms were being refitted in preparation for her daughter's marriage. "Pray make no excuses," said my mother. "I venture to say this is just the sort of room my daughter would choose." "Yes, indeed," I added, as my lady turned to me; "I love a turret-room above all things." "Then we are all suited," said my lady kindly; "but you are not looking quite well, sweetheart." I assured her that I was well and only tired with my journey, and so with more kind words, she left us to ourselves. We unpacked our mails and dressed ourselves, and then at the summons of a waiting-gentlewoman, we descended to the withdrawing-room, my mother having first recommended Dinah to the attention of this same gentlewoman, who said she would show her to the room of Mrs. Carey, the housekeeper. "And is Mrs. Carey still living?" asked my mother. "She must be very old." "She is so, madame," answered the waiting-damsel; "but she is still hale and active, and does all the work my lady will allow. This way, madame, if you please."