An old man came out of a pretty rustic-looking lodge and opened
theses gates, and we drove through an avenue of some extent, which
led straight to the front of the house, the aspect of which
delighted me. It was very old and massively built, and had quite a
baronial look, I thought. There was a wide stone terrace with
ponderous moss-grown stone balustrades round three sides of it, and
at each angle a broad flight of steps leading down to a second
terrace, with sloping green banks that melted into the turf of the
lawn. The house stood on the summit of a hill, and from one side
commanded a noble view of the sea.

A lady came out of the curious old stone porch as the carriage drove
up, and stood at the top of the terrace steps waiting for us. I
guessed immediately that this must be Mrs. Darrell.

Milly hung back a little shyly, as her father led her up the steps
with her hand through his arm. She was very pale, and I could see
that she was trembling. Mrs. Darrell came forward to her quickly,
and kissed her.

'My darling Emily,' she cried, 'I am so delighted to see you at
last.--O William, you did not deceive me when you promised me a
beautiful daughter.'

Milly blushed, and smiled at this compliment, but still clung to her
father, with shy downcast eyes.

I had time to look at Mrs. Darrell while this introduction was being
made. She was not by any means a beautiful woman, but she was what I