The Grange--at which they arrived late in the afternoon, the two men escorting the one girl--was a large, rambling mansion built of yellowish stone, its original color more or less washed out by rain and burnt out by sunshine. The surface of the massive walls was grimy with black and rough with lichens, while the broad, flat stones of the roof were covered with damp green moss. The house, although in two stories, was of no great height, and stood on the uttermost verge of the hill, which sloped abruptly down into the valley. The view should have been very fine, but sundry tall houses had been built round The Grange, which prevented the owner from enjoying the magnificent prospect. This shutting-in--according to the legend--was due to the malice of a disinherited brother in Jacobean times, who had created quite a village round about the estate so as to block out the view. But the present inhabitants did not mind much, for, as Mildred explained, both Miss Armour and Mrs. Jarsell stayed within doors a great deal. "In fact, Miss Armour is more or less paralyzed, and sits in a big chair all day, reading and knitting, and talking and playing Patience," said Mildred, as the trio turned into a small courtyard, and found themselves facing a squat door, set in a porch sufficiently massive to serve for the entrance to a mausoleum. An elderly maid, in an incongruous dress of brilliant scarlet, admitted them into a darkish hall, whose atmosphere, suggestive of a Turkish bath in a mild way, hinted that the house was heated by steam pipes, as indeed was the case. There were some carved boxes of black oak in the hall and three or four uncomfortable high-backed chairs, but the walls and floor were bare, and the general aspect was somewhat bleak. However, when the visitors were conducted along a narrow passage, ill-lighted and dismal, they were introduced to a large low-ceilinged room, richly and luxuriously and picturesquely furnished. The brilliant garb of the maidservant suited this room much better than it did hall or passage, and there was a suggestion of tropical splendor about the woman and the sitting-room, which revealed in Mrs. Jarsell a strong love of color, warmth, and light. Indeed, although there were three large windows looking out on to a garden, and immediately facing the door by which they had entered, yet the light which was admitted being insufficient--perhaps because of the wintry gloom--the apartment was brilliantly illuminated by six lamps. Three of these stood at one end of the room, and three at the other, on tall brass stands, and the light, radiating through opaque globes, filled the place with mellow splendor. The vivid scene it revealed was a strange and unexpected one to find in these barren wilds.