This point was soon settled, and he led them along a green alley of the forest, until they came to the park palings. The fence was of the wildest description. Ivy, clematis, and woodbine, mixed in the utmost profusion with bryony, bind-weed, and other climbing plants, overshadowed by gigantic ferns and gorse, which might almost be classed among trees. Over these, huge forest trees swung their ancient branches, and made a sort of twilight of the spot. The children wondered what would come next; but Mr. Huyton, drawing a key from his pocket, and pushing aside a tangled screen of green boughs, soon threw open a little door, which at first had hardly been perceptible, and the party found themselves within the park. A narrow path, which seemed but rarely trodden, leading between thickets of tall fern, picturesque old thorns, and ancient hollies, opened before them. Eager and amused, the girls pressed their ponies along at a quick pace; Hilary still leaned on her brother’s arm, while Mr. Huyton walked by her side, and assisted Maurice to hold back the encroaching brambles, or overhanging prickly branches, which might have impeded her progress. A turn in the path brought them suddenly in sight of the house, and then the owner, turning to Hilary, said, “If you will trust yourself to the wild style of housekeeping which a bachelor hermit’s establishment affords, you will come in and rest yourself, Miss Duncan?” Hilary at first declined, but her companion would not be refused, and Maurice was so charmed with the manners of their new acquaintance, and with the style of his conversation, that he seconded his proposal, when, of course, Hilary yielded. “Thank you, very much,” exclaimed Mr. Huyton, warmly; “but I must tell you that to rest in my house is but a part of my plan. You must let me have the pleasure of taking you all home in my carriage, I am sure Miss Duncan is too fatigued for more exertion; and perhaps the young ladies would not mind exchanging their saddle for a seat in the britschka?” “Oh, no; we can not think of giving such trouble,” exclaimed Hilary quite shocked at the idea. “Besides, there are the ponies!” suggested Maurice. “Never mind them, the groom shall bring them home in the evening,” replied Mr. Huyton; and without listening to any further objections, he called to a man who was standing by the gate of the stable-yard, close to which their path led them, and gave orders for the carriage to be got ready. Their path now emerged into a beautiful triple avenue, which extended at least half a mile from the front of the house, along which Hilary’s eye glanced with intense admiration, and a low exclamation of “beautiful!” escaped her. “My ancestors must have loved trees,” said Mr. Huyton; “there are avenues extending from each side of this huge, unwieldy house. I should like to show them to you some day.” “Is this the front?” inquired Maurice.