in which was a crypt-like hall covered by vaulting of
exceptional and massive ingenuity:

'Built ere the art was known,
By pointed aisle and shafted stalk
The arcades of an alleyed walk
To emulate in stone.'

It happened that the central pillar whereon the vaults rested,
reputed to exhibit some of the most hideous grotesques in
England upon its capital, was within a locked door. Somerset
was tempted to ask a servant for permission to open it, till
he heard that the inner room was temporarily used for plate,
the key being kept by Miss De Stancy, at which he said no
more. But afterwards the active housemaid redescended the
stone steps; she entered the crypt with a bunch of keys in one
hand, and in the other a candle, followed by the young lady
whom Somerset had seen on the terrace.

'I shall be very glad to unlock anything you may want to see.
So few people take any real interest in what is here that we
do not leave it open.'

Somerset expressed his thanks.

Miss De Stancy, a little to his surprise, had a touch of
rusticity in her manner, and that forced absence of reserve
which seclusion from society lends to young women more
frequently than not. She seemed glad to have something to do;
the arrival of Somerset was plainly an event sufficient to set