hiding-places in the ivy. Then I opened my bed-room door, and then, in
view of the great landing outside, I paused. Several doors, all except
mine now closed, gave admittance from this landing to different rooms.
Both landing and stairs were made of oak, black and polished with age.
One broad flight of stairs, with heavy carved banisters, pointed the way
below; a second and narrower flight led to the regions above. As a
matter of course I chose the former, but not till after a minute's
hesitation as to whether I should venture to leave my room at all before
I should be called. But my desire to see the baskets of flowers
prevailed over everything else. I closed my door gently and hurried
down.

I found myself in the entrance-hall of Deepley Walls, into which I had
been ushered on my arrival. There were the two curtained doorways
through which Lady Chillington had come and gone. For the rest, it was a
gloomy place enough, with its flagged floor, and its diamond-paned
windows high up in the semicircular roof. A few rusty full-lengths
graced the walls; the stairs were guarded by two effigies in armour; a
marble bust of one of the Cæsars stood on a high pedestal in the middle
of the floor; and that was all.

I was glad to get away from this dismal spot and to find myself in the
passage which led to the housekeeper's room. I opened the door and
looked in, but the room was vacant. Farther along the same passage I
found the kitchen and other domestic offices. The kitchen clock was just
on the point of six as I went in. One servant alone had come down. From
her I inquired my way into the garden, and next minute I was on the
lawn. The close-cropped grass was wet with the heavy dew; but my boots
were thick and I heeded it not, for the flowers were there within my
very grasp.