was called "parliament," and had been annexed by the children, admitted
of their sending down cheerful greetings to their grandfather and other
friends; and it was interesting, particularly when there was company to
dinner, to watch their father sitting at the head of the table, and to
see the dishes handed round.

The inside of the house was peculiar also. There was a very fine hall in
the centre, and a really beautiful old oak staircase wound round it,
being adorned with carving, and having a fine old fireplace on one of
the landings. This hall was the only good room in the house: on the
right of it were the kitchens and the kitchen offices, on its left was
the dining-room, which was a thoroughfare to the drawing-room, and
through that again you reached a pleasant library; John Mortimer's own
particular den or smoking room being beyond again. All these rooms had
thorough lights excepting the last, and in fine weather every one
entered them, back or front, from the garden.

Up-stairs there were a great many bedrooms, and not one good one: most
of them had sloping roofs. Then there was a long school-room, with a
little staircase of its own. You could make a good deal of noise in that
room, and not be heard beyond it; but this circumstance is no particular
advantage, if your father has no nerves at all, and scarcely observes
whether there is a noise or not.

John and Valentine Mortimer had a cheerful dinner, and after that a
riotous game at romps with the children. It was four days since the
funeral; it had now passed into the background of their thoughts, and
they concerned themselves very little further with the will of old Madam
Melcombe; for it must not be supposed that they knew much about her--not
half as much, in fact, as every man, woman, and child knew round about